moving

my family and i are going to be moving away this summer. this is a big part of what's going on in my life right now, and i was thinking it's a bit strange that i haven't said much about it here on this lil' blog of mine. so, i thought i'd share what i wrote recently in some information we sent out to some friends and family.

here goes:

It all started--for me--about two and a half years ago when we visited Charlottesville, Virginia, for the first time. I fell in love with the city, with its history, its Old South charm, its college town energy, its artistic, funky vibe, its plethora of used book stores and coffee shops (books and coffee—it almost doesn’t get any better than that for me).

There was one thing, though, that I didn’t love: the highbrow intellectualism not just in the university culture, but in the city as a whole. It intimidated me. I am most definitely an F (feeler) on the Myers-Briggs, not a T (thinker), so I felt a bit at a loss. (Now, mind you, I’m not stupid; I just think more with my heart and intuition than with my brain.) Still, I left Charlottesville with quite a favorable opinion.

Fast forward to this past summer. I was in Denver visiting two dear friends, and they were talking to me about how wonderful it would be if Winn and I could move back to Denver. I agreed with them—it would be wonderful. Denver was and is a sacred place to both Winn and me because of our experience there. Rebirth, healing, awakening, restoration, redemption, the call of the Wild, Life—all of these things we encountered in the two and half years we called Denver home.

Now, you may be asking, “why were you thinking of moving from Clemson?” Ah, excellent question. Winn and I have known for a while now that Clemson was not going to be a long-term home for us, for various reasons. The sense that we would leave felt confirmed by God, but we didn’t know how or when or where. We’ve just been waiting. And dreaming. (Winn dreaming mostly of Colorado.)

Back to last summer in Denver. As my friends talked about a possible move back to Denver for us, I thought, “Yes, it would be amazing to live close to two of my most favorite people in the world, to move back to this sacred ground, but. . .” There was some hesitation on my part. Deb noticed this and later said to me, “You know, Miska, your no about Denver is just as important as Winn’s yes.” What an unusual and wise thing to say! That got me thinking.

On the plane ride home, knowing that it would take a definite yes from me to leave this place I’ve grown to deeply love, I pondered Deb’s words and began to reflect with God about where in this world would my yes be? My heart first went to the southeast. Something about this part of the country feels like home to me, so I told God that. And then I said, “And if I’m going to narrow it down a little more, I really love Virginia. I don’t know why; I just do.” Pause. Then, “And as long as I’m voicing desire here, I might as well just go ahead and say that I really love the city of Charlottesville. I’m just putting that out there, God. Do with it what You will.”

That was in July. In September, Winn got a phone call from Chris, a friend who is a pastor/church planter/consultant in Virginia. Chris asked Winn if he knew anyone interested in planting a church in Charlottesville, VA. His answer: “Ummm, are you kidding?”

A number of conversations followed, then a visit to Charlottesville, and another visit. More conversations. All the while, Winn and I felt carried along by God in this crazy process. Church planting hadn’t been something we’d been thinking about, but as the opportunity unfolded, it felt strangely compelling. And as we got deeper in, it began to feel even more like God was pulling (or pushing—I’m not sure) us along, pointing to this particular place in Virginia and this risky proposition, and asking, “Will you obey Me? Will you serve this city in My name and for the sake of My kingdom?”

Well, that’s not much of a choice, is it? Our hearts burned within us; that’s the only way I know to describe it. This city, the church plant, the timing—all felt like a convergence of our gifts and our desires. We didn't dare say anything but yes, despite the ever-present questions and the fears.

What is especially beautiful to me is what God has been doing in me over the last couple of years: an increasing acceptance of who God dreamed me into existence to be, an obedience to His call to step into my true self, a reclaiming of things in me that had been lost and damaged. I have felt and do feel God’s call for me to minister to those whose minds and hearts are divided, to those who have been deeply wounded, to those who feel their brokenness and want to find life and healing. I can do this in Charlottesville, in ways that I could not have done it two and a half years ago. I’m not intimidated anymore by the intellectualism of the city. I can see it for what it is now—something good that can become just another elaborate way of hiding. Fig leaves, if you will.

Frederick Buechner says that our calling or vocation in this life is where “our deep joy and the world’s deep hunger meet.” Charlottesville, we believe, is that place for us now, that place where our particular energy and passion—our gifts—meet a deep need in a context and a culture that we love.


*if you'd be interested in receiving the mailing we sent out, just let me know.