Yes, you read that right…the Lees have moved to Denver, CO!
We’ve been praying about this transition since the fall of last year, actually. At that time, we didn’t know where God was calling us to next. But, we just knew. Although we loved Kansas City and it had become home for us the last almost five years, we knew that God had a new place and a new season in mind for us.
Long story short, my husband and I got connected to a Korean-American church in Denver (that connection is it’s own crazy, divine appointment kind of story), and we’ve been getting to know them since the beginning of this year. We flew out to visit a few times, and each time we felt like this would become our new home, our new family.
After we gave our “yes” to their offer for my husband to be the senior pastor (upon being ordained), it was a whirlwind of change.
I remember watching as our agent stuck the “FOR SALE” sign into our front yard. For the first time, it felt REAL. Yes, I know we had been talking about this for months, preparing our home to be listed for weeks, and sharing the news with those closest to us for a while now.
But the bittersweet tidal wave of change hit me smack in the face. Yes, we had so many new and exciting things to look forward to in Denver. And we knew without a doubt that we were called to that place. But that also meant we were saying goodbye to so many friends and so many memories that had shaped the first almost five years of our marriage.
This house on 108th Street would forever be etched into our memories. This was the place where we built our family. Where we brought home our first-born son. Where we watched him take his first steps and say his first words. This was the place where we built forever friendships. Where we ate around the table. Played countless rounds of Catan into the wee hours of the night. These walls held the rich sounds of laughter and joy. These floors had soaked up so many unspoken tears and prayers.
And yet, within 48 hours of being listed, our house went into contract. With an offer that was even higher than what we had listed it for.
Miraculously, God also provided a home for us in Denver. And one day, we hope we can bring home more babies to this new home. Where we can some day watch Josiah become a big brother. The place where we will build new, forever friendships. Where we will eat, and play, and laugh, and cry, and pray once more. And as hard and good as this season of change is, I am so, so grateful.
A friend of mine once told me that change, no matter how joyful it is, always demands a period of grieving. Because you can never go back to what was. And that’s the way it should be. But in order to walk with confidence and hope into the next season, we must honor what was.
So in the midst of drowning in cardboard boxes and too much stuff, we’re doing the best we can. Expectant, hopeful, and excited for what is to come. But remembering all the good that happened in our first home. And trusting that there is so much more good to come.
Thirty sounded old a long time ago. Now, at 30, I feel like I’m just getting started with my life.
There are a lot of things I could reflect upon, deep thoughts I could write about as I leave my twenties. But at this point, there are just a few random, somehow related thoughts that are stringing together in my brain.
So, in honor of turning 30, here is a list of 30 things that are an honest reflection of who I am and what I’m thinking about in this moment.
It’s ten days into 2018 and I’ve finally started to remember to write 2018 instead of 2017. Which means 2018 must be here to stay, right? 🙂
We kicked off the New Year with a sick baby – full blown coughing, sneezing, snot drizzled everywhere, low-grade fever, no sleep…oh the joys of parenthood.
And just as the kiddo started to get better…the husband got sick. And then just as he started to get better…yup, you guessed it…I got sick.
Which is why this is being written ten days into 2018, instead of on the 1st of January.
A couple of years ago I learned about One Word 365 from my sweet blogger friend Sarah. And heading into 2016, I just knew with a strange certainty that the word for that year would be “Immanuel” – God With Us.
At the time, I had no idea that my first-born son would be born in 2016, 10.5 weeks early. There was no way to anticipate the up and down journey it would all be, and that my one word – Immanuel – would become such an anchor for us in that season.
Heading into 2017, I felt such conviction that it would be a year of miracles. We had just witnessed our little 29 weeker thrive in the NICU, surprise the doctors despite all of his medical diagnoses, and come home before his expected due date.
But there I was, the last day of 2017, permanently situated on my glider as I tried to rock a very cranky, sniffly little boy to sleep. Read more…