Restoration, Part I

The season has shifted, and now it’s time for me to tell you about all the good things the Lord has done and is doing.

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In July of 2017, I had been in the San Diego area for about a year, and, as horribly as everything was going at that point (see https://pellucere.wordpress.com/2017/12/27/pellucere-and-th…d-very-bad-years/), I had reconciled myself to the idea that this was now home.  But one night, I pulled up Google Maps and began looking at all the places I loved in Alaska, and I started to weep.  I went into a vision, where the Lord showed me myself hunched over a grave in the Mat-Su Valley in AK.  In the grave was Alaska itself. He said my dream had been murdered and I needed to mourn, specifically that I needed to “sit shiva.”

For those of you who don’t know, sitting shiva is the Jewish practice that symbolizes the mourner being “brought low” following the loss of a loved one.  It has a specific time frame and many guidelines, so I immediately asked the Lord how I was supposed to implement all that.  He smiled and said it was less about the ritual and more about deliberately putting myself in the frame of mind to actively mourn.  So I took off for a friend’s place in Phoenix, locked myself in her guesthouse for 4 days, and let the Lord take me through it.  I cried some but mostly rested and wrote and enjoyed the Arizona monsoon season. (Is there anything more soothing than a violent thunderstorm? Not in my book!) On probably day 3, the Lord took me back into the vision, back to the grave, and I saw him absorb it into himself, which I understood, and then absorb me into himself, which I did not.  I went back to California feeling like I had set down a heavy weight.

Fast-forward to 2018.  As I’ve mentioned in a previous post (https://pellucere.wordpress.com/2018/05/12/my-cup-filleth-up/), the Lord gave me “restoration” as one of my words for the year.  Apparently a LOT of people got this word because all of a sudden, I started hearing it everywhere.  Right after the new year, the Lord took me back to that same valley where the grave used to be. But as he stood there, he became a portal. He shimmered like a transporter beam, and then I could see his outline but his center became clear, and it was the same valley I was standing in but inside him. I understood that I had mourned what was dead, that I was still in him, and that this was an invitation to restoration. He called Alaska “Lazarus” and invited me to walk through the portal.  And I did.

Now, as far as how that was going to play out in the “real” world, well, I had no clue.  I figured I’d find a job before M and I drove up.  I thought we’d stay in a hotel for a couple of weeks until I got a paycheck or two, at which time we’d find a house and get our stuff out of our storage unit.  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with M until school started, but I figured I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.  And God laughed indulgently…

In my mind, I always saw us in a cozy little house until J was released to Alaska.  I saw J walking up a gravel driveway with no baggage, ready to come home at that time, but in the interim, M and I needed to be able to spread out, set up our art stuff and our drums, and just rest.  I looked on Craigslist and Zillow, just to keep tabs on the market, and one day in May, I found the cutest little leaf-green 3/2 ranch.  It really jumped out at me, but at that point, I still wasn’t sure when we were leaving San Diego, and nothing stays on the market long in Alaska, so I didn’t give it much thought.  Eventually, it disappeared off Zillow.  And then in mid-June, it reappeared, ready to rent beginning in July.  J and I talked, and we got this crazy idea to apply for it, even though I wasn’t working and he had rent to pay in Colorado.  We had the lease within 2 days, rented sight-unseen.  Now M and I have been here a month, and it is absolutely perfect for us.  Quiet, peaceful, facing the Talkeetna Mountains, it’s a restful haven, except when Little Drummer Boy is banging on his kit. 😀  And it has a gravel driveway.

The restoration continues.  M and his best friend have picked up their relationship right where they left off 2 years ago.  We had talked about getting another cat, preferably a Maine Coon, one day…and then we went to the animal shelter, and this tiny kitten launched himself at my shoulder and would not let go.  So we now have Bean, and guess what? He’s a Maine Coon.  We have the ultimate Alaska neighbors, who have already shown M how to fillet salmon and taught him to ride a 4-wheeler.  And I’m feeling better healthwise than I have in years.  I know there’s so much more just ahead, and I am so excited about this new season.  Be encouraged, y’all.  The Lord does not forget his promises, and even when it doesn’t look ANYTHING like what you think it should (and let’s face it; that’s pretty much always), he is faithful to restore the years the locusts ate.  If you’re still waiting to see those promises fulfilled, hang in there. Call for restoration; stand on it.  It’s coming!

To be continued…