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Wednesday, January 29, 2020

My Fourth Heartbreak


Gabe and I might be moving to Winston-Salem. True to form, I've decided to process my thoughts via the written word. There are a lot of thoughts. I don't expect this post to be very organized. I'm just going to write it.

Gabe was offered a job last Friday after his third round of interviews.

When he started talking about the company before Christmas, a heavy weight flirted around the edges of my stomach. This might be the job, I thought. He sounded so excited when he talked about the company. He loved what they do (in a laywoman nutshell, they turn plastic bottles into what feels like cotton, to be made into socks, blankets, etc), he loved the way they've innovated, he loved their philosophy.

When he was offered the job, we went into analysis mode, doing the Classical Conversations version of a pros and cons list: an ANI chart. You take a "should" question (in this case, "Should Gabe take the job in Winston?") and in the A column, write reasons he should (affirmative), in the N column write reasons he shouldn't (negative), and in the I column, put things that aren't affirmative or negative but "Interesting." Then we made an ANI chart for a job with the company Gabe works for now as an intern.

We did this in Moe's, like the unashamed nerds we are.

Our charts were well populated. Both charts had a hefty list of A's. But as we drove home, before I even decided to speak, I was saying,

"Why are we even doing this?"

Gabe looked at me, small frown in his eyes.

"We already know you're supposed to take the job in Winston," I said. "We're just looking for reasons to dissuade us because we don't want to."

Gabe's eyebrows rose. "What? Really?"

"We both know it. Don't you?" I asked.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I just didn't know you felt that way."

"I know this feeling," I told him. "I've had it many times before. It's the feeling where I know what God is telling me to do, but I hold up other alternatives to him and try to get him to get on board with those instead. It never works. And when I finally do what he's leading me to do, it's always better than I could have imagined."

So this is where we are. As I type this, Gabe has not accepted the job. But after praying, and crying, and making lists, I don't think the feeling has changed. Sometimes I think maybe it has. Maybe STAYING is trusting God, because we don't have another active offer? Something could still come up and indicate that God is leading us to stay. But it hasn't yet, and I'm not sure it will.

I know God has only good things for us. I know that so deeply. I really believe that.

But this hurts so much.

I don't make friends easily, at all. I finally have friends here. We finally found a church that is Home. We love our pastor. We love our friends. We love what our church stands for. We finally became real members. We confide in these people. We trust these people.

These are the people I wanted to raise my kids with. (Man, this is what really makes me cry, every time I think about it, although I AM NOT PREGNANT.) These are the people I wanted to talk pregnancy stories with. These are the people I wanted to make us meals after I have a baby. These are the people whose kids I want my kids to grow up with. These are the people I would trust to babysit.

These are My People. How can God want us to leave our people? How can God want us to leave the church that has helped me to grow spiritually as an adult like I never have before? How can God want us to leave the church where I learned how to worship, for real?

I know God's heart is breaking with me. He knows the big picture, his good intentions, and he is still crying with me. He is right here in the grief, I know that. I know that God would never call us to do anything that wasn't for our good and his glory. If God wants us to move away from our home, then it's because he has something better for us. It may not even be better friends, or a better church; it may just be a better relationship with him. And if that's it, it will still be worth it.

I don't want this post to sound goody-goody, or even joyful and silver-liningy. I'm crying. I've been crying all day. My Eight heart hurts in ways I don't feel comfortable hurting. In ways that make me want to stop loving people. In ways that make me want to be angry instead of sad.

But I really do trust God. I really do trust my husband. I really do believe that if we're supposed to move, it will be a good thing, and one day I will look back—just like I do now with all the other things God told me to do that I didn't want to do—and know why he wanted us to do this.

But ow.

~Stephanie

Wednesday, January 1, 2020

All In



(Handy Reference Post)

"I'm all in, palms out, I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin.

I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in.

I'll shake the ground with all my might
I will pull my whole heart up to the surface.
For the innocent, for the vulnerable,
I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose

And I'll give all I have, I'll give my blood, I'll give my sweat,
An ocean of tears will spill for what is broken.
I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again,
Invincible like I've never been."
~"Eight" by Sleeping At Last

Eights are intense. The songwriter of Sleeping At Last, Ryan O'Neal, says that "when Eights use the word 'all,' they really mean it."


When I finally decided that Gabe was safe—that he loved me and was trustworthy and would not exploit my vulnerability—I was all in. ALL in. Palms out, at his mercy, and ready to begin. Let's do this. Let's—honestly, let's both of us—get to know me. I'm open. I'm out there.


I became strong enough to let him in, which is the craziest thing I've ever done. And so far, I haven't regretted it.


I interpret the last two sections of the song as what an Eight—what I—can do: inflict (weird word choice, I know) incredible positive change on the world. When Eights are healthy, they shake the ground for all the right reasons: for the innocent, for the vulnerable. My own fierce protectiveness has the potential to shield people who need that. The sword I laid down to let Gabe through can be wielded on behalf of other people. 

Eights are theoretically awesome humanitarians, whether through an organization or just in their circle of friends. Healthy Eights show up on the frontlines with a purpose. They give all (ALL) they have: blood, sweat, an ocean of tears. They want to right the wrongs, protect the vulnerable. You want a healthy Eight on your side.

A completely healthy Eight, one who has pulled her whole heart up to the surface (which I think probably means being vulnerable with more than just one or two people), is invincible like she never could have been with her heart buried. Strong enough to be vulnerable. Strong enough to let people in. Strong enough to acknowledge how much about the world is painful to her.

The song builds to apex of intensity—a musical scream of power and love—before everything drops into silence, leaving the listener wondering, "Then what? THEN WHAT?" And the Eights of the world smile slowly and ask themselves,

"Yeah. Now what?"

And then they go and do it.

~Stephanie