‘Cause it’s for Lovers

Ok. Let’s do this.

Knowing that I eventually had to sit down and write coherently and descriptively about what has been happening in the last few weeks has made me very sensitive to my reactions and feelings about it all. I have been trying to honestly pinpoint what is going on inside my heart and head underneath all the swirling babbling words. What I keep coming back to is, “This was almost too easy.”

In the last month, Clayton has had three consecutive interviews at practices in Rome, Georgia; Newport News, Virginia; and Ahoskie, North Carolina. By the time he had changed out of his suit and snuggled into the huge bed at our hotel in Newport News, he had two job offers. Bam. Just like that. After some squealing and hugging and “Clayton!”s (all done by me, btw), we realized we had a choice to make. A choice that represented the two of us being blessed beyond comprehension– moving to Georgia or moving to Virginia. (The North Carolina interview was never a sincere consideration, which I talk a little about here; Clayton had simply already booked his flight before receiving either job offer.)

Now, I don’t mention my faith very often here. Another story, another day. But this situation just doesn’t even make sense in my head without a straight-up-raise-the-roof-whoop-whoop shout out to the Big Guy. So, whoop whoop. It’s been an overwhelming sense of relief and release to understand that my power and control over my circumstances only go so far. Life can take every plan and to-do list I could hope to make and toss it out the window in a second. But God is bigger than me. He’s even bigger than a global economic recession and USF’s transfer student degree requirements. He’s just so stinking big. Of course I am proud of Clayton (and even myself) for the last seven years of hard work and sacrifices and commitment. We wouldn’t be in this place without that. But every ounce of my being is humbled and thankful for the way that God has taken what we have given and transformed it into something we could have never planned, something that only He could have done.

Technically, the decision is still being made. No dotted lines have been signed. It seems, though, that the process is well underway and in about two and a half months, provided there isn’t some clause in the contract about devil worship and child sacrifices, Clayton and I will be Virginia residents. I don’t want to count those unhatched chickens, but the thought alone makes me unbearably excited. Every conversation about moving out of Florida. Every night Clayton couldn’t hang out with me because he was studying. Every time we had to turn down a dinner or a trip because we couldn’t afford it. Every moment since I met him has been leading us here, and I can’t wait to take the next step.