Wednesday, July 30, 2008

The American Dream

After our real estate agent (whom we adored) had to leave the business, I’m not going to lie- I was pretty stressed out about our house situation. This isn’t the ideal time to be selling a house you just purchased a few months ago (is there ever an ideal time to do that?). But last week, I had this amazing peace that it was time to enjoy my house, and God was reminding me that He was in control of this (I mean, He’s done bigger things).

So I came home and cleaned the house and started thinking of new ways to decorate and enjoy it. And in the midst of this cleaning frenzy, I get a phone call.

The woman on the phone had randomly driven by our neighborhood and randomly driven by "our house, and after checking out the pictures of our home online, she “fell in love” (the paint colors did it, she said- whew, that made that hard work so worth it!). Long story short, she wanted the house. And she wanted it by the end of the week.

So, praise Jesus for reminding me that He is in way more control than we are, and that He is the best real estate agent out there (and He charges way less).

Let’s also discuss how humbling it is to speed-pack your three-bedroom house… for a one-bedroom apartment in California (with a pit-stop in your parents’ basement for 6-9 months). You really start thinking about what’s important when you downsize like that. The Kitchenaid Mixer we had to have is just going to have to patiently wait on us in storage while I enjoy Mom’s cooking and free rent (can we praise Jesus for that too while we’re at it?)

So, we’re saying goodbye to the American Dream we got to live for a few short months. And while I loved my house and will miss it dearly, the chorus of Switchfoot’s “American Dream” reminds me that sometimes you’ve got to sacrifice for the real rewards:

"This ain't my American dream
I want to live and die for bigger things
I'm tired of fighting for just me
This ain't my American dream"

The house and the jobs and the dog have been amazing, don’t get me wrong, but we’re ready for the adventure…

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Coming Home

So we were driving home from my parents' house on Saturday and somehow made a wrong turn (we've driven this drive hundreds of times... how we made a "wrong turn" is obviously an act of God...) We ended up taking 124 into Snellville, and as we're driving, we notice that the streets are lined with families, most holding American flags. Now it's mid-July, a full year away from the 4th or Memorial Day... we were so confused. Until we saw a sign: "Welcome Home Cpl. Ayers" So as we near Ronald Reagan, we see a police car, sitting with his light on, and some big commotion up ahead. We naturally decide to pull over and get out, to see what's going on, and a few other people do the same and join us. We're expecting that someone is returning from Iraq, and we're proud to watch this celebration, anxious to see him and his family. As the procession nears though, I notice what's leading it- a hearse.

The hearse is followed by at least 100 men and women on Harley's, some with army flags flying, all with American flags at the rear of their bikes. One rider looks at us and gives the side wave, mouthing "thank you" as we stand on the street. He didn't know what was ahead- people waiting in red and blue, holding American flags and a "welcome home" sign. These were the people to thank- those who knew the story and were here in support.

I returned to the car completely changed. I think David was scared out of his mind watching me stand there crying for a man I had never met. But it wasn't that I was sad or scared- I was proud. This man, Corporal Ayers, did something with his life, and at his death, people lined the street celebrating his service and sacrifice. And what does it say about a man to have hundreds follow behind his hearse in love and support? I knew that this was a family I wanted to be a part of- a family we are proud and excited to join.

I expected Cpl. Ayers to be older, maybe even retired army, as the bikers all seemed to be in their 50s at least. But when we researched him when we got home, we found a different story entirely. Army Cpl. Jonathan Ayers was David's age, and he graduated from Shiloh- the high school that I graduated from. He was killed in Afghanistan on Friday July 18 with eight other men in one of the deadliest attacks on US troops since the 2001 invasion.

Learning about Cpl. Ayers' death reminds me that we are given one life, and we're given that life for a purpose. It's not about survival, but living. Cpl. Ayers lived only 24 years- David's age- a time where we feel like we're just getting started. But he did big things with his time. He worked to change an entire country, to protect HIS country back home. I know that not everyone has to serve in the military to find purpose- for my friend Callie, she changes the world through nursing. For our friend Tyler, I think he'll find purpose in music. For me, I believe it's photography. But for David, I believe this is where he's finding his purpose. I have already seen a change in him- a desire to be there, to get started. I'm not scared for him (I'm sure at some point I will be!), but I am proud and excited. And so ready.

So to Cpl. Ayers, thank you for your service and sacrifice. And thank you for reminding me what it looks like to do something with the time you are given. I pray that the "Welcome Home" sign reads true- that you're home with your real Dad, experiencing what freedom really is.

"Each of these heroes stands in the unbroken line of patriots who have dared to die that freedom might live and grow and increase in its blessings."
-Franklin Delano Roosevelt