the 10-20-30 virus…
Ben tagged me, infecting me with the aforementioned virus. I’ve been procrastinating.
Because I will be 25 next month, I’m going to pretend I’m 25 now because that makes the math easier.
10 years ago I was 15 (wow, I’m good at math). I turned 15 shortly into my first year at boarding school at the Black Forest Academy. My parents and siblings were aboard the Logos II. I remember being incredibly lonely as I waited for close friendships to develop. This was the second major move that convinced me that my deepest thoughts, wounds and dreams were better kept in an iron box beneath the flesh of my heart. I did not want to reveal how deeply I was hurting, and how I longed for stability because I was sure I was only experiencing pain because I was not strong or godly enough. If God had called my parents, surely that meant I should be okay?
For my fifteenth birthday my closest friends from my time in Germany (2nd to 6th grade) came to celebrate. We were known as S.K.D.D.R. (Salome, Kylie, Daphne, Deanne and Ruth). I had moved away from them about 2 years before boarding school. As we laughed and talked, I became acutely aware of the distance that occurs, and the natural change of friendships when friends are no longer caught in the daily patterns of each others lives.
If I’m not careful to watch my mind as I type these words, it starts to linger over the loss of those years. I have to keep reminding myself of the gift of those friendships - of those seasons - although they were shorter than I would have liked.
Moving on.
Twenty years ago I was 5.
I have no idea where I was. We lived on one of the three O.M. (Operation Mobilization) ships, or we may have been back in Canada to visit family. Before my parents moved across the states to S.C., I asked my mom to give me a copy of the location of my early life. Which ships we were one when, and the countries we lived in. I have the paper somewhere.
Thirty years ago - I did not exist - My parents were dating or engaged and I was just a twinkle in my Dad’s grey green eyes.
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This was a depressing assignment. Thanks Ben 
I am convinced that grieving follows a circular pattern. After spending an entire summer in counseling and having a kind woman named Pam walk me through facing the loss in my life and the lies Satan sold me when I was in pain, I expect the pain to stay away and for those scars to no longer hurt. While they are no longer as intense and overwhelming - the echo of the wound still slithers in my heart and if it were not for the grace and mercy of God and the knowledge that just as my grief is circular, so is His healing.
His mercy and healing pursue me each day - and although I am often ignorant of the healing that needs to take place, He knows and He continually brings me face my darkest fears and He walks me through the pain of birthing my deepest tears because as they are expelled from my eyes they allow space to be freed in my heart for love: His and others.
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The people I want to tag - infect with the virus - are Kathy, Michael P., and Mary W.
Blog on - or if you don’t have a blog (Mike) - feel free to leave an extra long comment - I can always copy and post it as its own special post - if that’s okay with you.