As I type, the baby girl cooking in my belly is either using my bladder as a trampoline or practicing for her drum career.
Either way, the little mover and shaker inside of me is preparing for her grand debut into the world, hopefully sooner than later. I’ve reached the point in pregnancy where everything just aches. Sleeping aches. Walking aches. Heartburn after eating aches. Putting on my shoes is almost impossible without assistance and should be videoed for hilarity’s sake. But with every waddle to the bathroom (since it’s where I live my life these days), I’m reminded once again that we’re about go from a family of 3 to a beautiful posse of 4.
(Sigh. Butterflies. Heart flutters.)
For those confused because of social media as to where we’re living and what we’re doing, I figured the ole website was easier than responding to every tweet, email and instagram question.
So for those who care, here’s the scoop.
On August 31, 2013, we packed our belongings into a storage facility in Los Angeles and decided to go on an adventure. My speaking schedule was heavy enough that we’d only be home 6 weeks from September to December, and with ridiculously high Los Angeles rent prices and knowing we’d have to move to a bigger place when baby girl came, we decided to take the few weeks we weren’t working and travel the world visiting friends and family. On paper, it sounded wonderful, exciting, and logical. But to an ever-expanding pregnant woman with a toddler, out speaking and ministering, the adventure turned into what felt like a decision to scale Mt. Everest in shorts and call it fun. My poor little boy Moses would cry when he’d see us packing up our suitcases again, leaving another hotel room he’d just gotten used to or a friends house where he’d finally felt safe. One day in December he cupped my face in between his little hands, looked deep in my eyes and said, “Mama, let’s go HOME.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him we didn’t have one. Or try to make his year-and-a-half old brain understand that home was wherever we happened to be that day.
Exhausted, fried, and a bit dazed and confused, we made a decision. We needed to park our booty’s somewhere and take a break.
The last thing either of us had the brain or heart capacity to do was to head back out to California and house hunt for our perfect needle in a haystack, especially since we had no idea where to begin looking. Should we stay in LA? Should we move to Santa Barbara? Sacramento? Back to Redding? Nothing was feeling like a clear green light. My last speaking engagement on the books was February 21-23, 2014 in Houston, TX, and though I’m tall and can hide the fact that I’m over 8 months pregnant, medically, it wasn’t a good idea to be flying anywhere that late in the game.
While staying with my parents over the holidays in Abilene, Texas, they proposed an option. “Christa, why don’t you guys just stay here and get a place around family. Moses is happy, you’ll have help with him and help with baby girl when she comes, and you can drive to your last event. You guys can rest, get healed up, take some time and get some vision for the future, and then make a decision where you’re supposed to go.”
The problem with this seemingly perfect option was this: I’d spent my entire life trying to get away from this town.
Abilene represented middle school hurt. Abilene represented high school rebellion. Abilene represented a Christa who shriveled into a hollow soul, searching for truth, the victim of so much pain, causing even more pain in return. Was this really the place designated for us to rest and heal?
Of course, I did what any woman full of faith would do. I threw out my skeptical fleece. Ok, God. If you want us to park it in Abilene, Texas for a hot minute, then I want a place that I adore that we can just move our suitcases into. Because I sure as heck don’t have the energy to do ANYTHING.
And just like God, within 24 hours, this place fell into our lap.
Isn’t it just like God to take the place of your deepest pain, redeem it, and make it the place of your deepest healing?
Within two months, we’re different people. Our belongings may still be in California, but our hearts are being restored in Texas. We’re getting ministry from old brokenness that kept rising to the surface last year and beating us down. We’re getting rested and refreshed. We’re being equipped and renewed for this next season. Our marriage is thriving, our son is blooming, and our hearts are exploding with vision and purpose for the years ahead.
I can’t wait to share details about what’s coming, because it involves all of you. We’re finding resources and making plans to create even more avenues for broken hearts to be healed, the wandering to be rescued, and the hopeless to be restored.
You can only give away what it is that you’ve allowed yourself to receive, so Abilene, Texas, thanks for one big dose of rest, healing, refreshing, equipping, peace, and renewal. Can’t wait to pour it out on the world.
Ps. Please be praying for me in the weeks ahead! I’ve been having Braxton Hicks contractions pretty heavily since January, so I think baby girl is coming soon! WHOOHOOOOO!!!