We Were Built for Adventure
I was a twenty-year-old youth pastor’s wife living in rural Colorado the day I stood in a bank ladies’ room and saw two lines on a stick staring back at me. A spirited young lady who worked the teller line next to me, often enticing me to join her in loudly singing bad versions of 98 Degrees songs while counting down our drawers, had told me she thought she might be pregnant. She stewed on this information for days, processing how it might change her life. Finally, on that fateful Monday, I’d volunteered to take a pregnancy test with her in solidarity. She summoned her courage and agreed.
The only problem was, hers was negative and mine was positive.
Upon seeing that pesky second line, I began to fall backward, desperately searching for something solid to grasp. My hands found the sink countertop as I uttered the only words I could find: “It has to be wrong.”
“What does it say?” Aubrey inquired, rather pensively.
“It says I’m pregnant.”
“Well, they can be wrong. Breathe.”
I went upstairs to make a phone call. As the phone rang, I started sobbing. My husband answered.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did you get in a car accident?”
Through my sobs I got out the words, “I’m pregnant.”
“That’s going to be expensive.”
It was going to be expensive and terrifying and painful? Was I ready to bring another human being into this world and teach them how to, well, do everything? The thought was so daunting, it struck panic in my heart.
I asked my coworkers not to mention my impending visit from the stork for a few weeks while I processed this news. I didn’t feel ready to be thrust into this next stage of life, and yet parenting has this way of shoving us forward, ready or not.
That evening I thought about the circle of life, how I had unexpectedly found out I was expecting on the anniversary of my brother’s death. Matt’s death had sucker punched me. It had taken what felt like a lifetime to catch my breath. In reality it had been only two years from the day he died to when two lines on a stick said new life was on its way. Life has a way of pushing us onward.
If ever there was a child who was a joy to raise, it’s been my son, Hayden. From the moment I heard his heart beating for the first time, he’s captured mine. He’s pushed me onward, called me higher. Yes, I’ve experienced challenges, moments for which I haven’t felt equipped, when I’ve cried out to Jesus for supernatural wisdom. But I’m happy to say he’s always provided it.
It’s been eighteen years since Hayden was born. He just graduated from high school. It’s hard to believe I was once so afraid of having him when he’s made having him so easy. This past year, though, hasn’t been so easy.
Last August my husband texted me in the middle of a conference to tell me he needed to relocate from Florida to Virginia in less than two weeks. Our children were to start their school year in ten days, and this was my son’s senior year.
My husband moved ahead of us, and I did my best to hold down the fort on my own. But my body, plagued by chronic illnesses of various kinds and intensities, simply wasn’t up to the task. In October we put our house up for sale, and the week after Thanksgiving, movers loaded the contents of our home and we began the arduous trek to Virginia.
I left my whole heart behind in Florida. You see, my son stayed behind to finish out his senior year.
Hayden had agonized over whether to stay or to go. One day, as we sat at the kitchen table, I told him to break my heart if he needed to, that I’d be okay. I knew as the words came out of my mouth I’d regret them, and yet they had to be said. I could feel myself falling backward, grasping for something solid. I didn’t feel ready to live in a different state as my son, certainly not during his senior year, but parenting, life, has a way of thrusting us forward, calling us higher.
Recently, I sat at my kitchen counter in Virginia while my son attended Grad Bash in Florida. As I said, parenting Hayden has been relatively easy. Living away from him has been excruciating. I don’t feel ready for him to graduate and go out into the world, yet God has this way of meeting us where we are, of equipping us with exactly what we need.
I don’t know what challenges you face, what mountains you must climb, or what wisdom you seek, but I know God is faithful. I know some of the things we’re most afraid of aren’t scary at all, and some will be far harder than we imagined. God will meet us in the midst of them and walk alongside us. We were built to climb higher and higher, going from glory to glory. Adventure is written on our hearts.
Hand in hand with him, let’s leap into the unknown. We’ll never regret it.
is wife to Ryan and mother to Hayden, Julie, and Avery. She is a writer, goofball, and avid reader. Stacey has ministered for over 15 years to youth and women in her community in order to equip them to go deeper in Christ. She blogs at aliferepaired.com and chronicallywhole.com.
Photograph © Joseph Gardner, used with permission
