New Home, New City, New Season

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.

And we knew. God was sending us out. Kansas City was our home. Now, Denver would become our home.

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.

Kansas City, you’ve been good to us. We love you.

And Denver, here we are. It’s gonna be good.

Celebrating Our Miracle // An Update on Josiah

Hi world!

I know, it’s been a long while since I’ve posted anything.  Is it just me or is 2018 flying by?

We’ve had so many beloved family and friends asking about our not-so-little-anymore miracle boy and his progress post-surgery.  Now that we are nearly three months post-op, it’s due time that I sent out a little update.

Long story, short…he’s doing REALLY well!  PTL! 🙂 Read more…

Waiting

Abba Father…

Here I am, again.  I look around and feel an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.  Haven’t I been here before?  Haven’t I spent enough nights, tossing questions and doubts through the caverns of my mind?  I thought I had done my time on this island, looking out at the vastness of the unknown.  Sure, the circumstances are different, but the whirlwind of emotions feel oh-so-familiar.

Yet, here I am.  Again.  Waiting.

As I sit here with my candid thoughts and fervent emotions spilling forth from within, You’re reminding me so gently of this – but, dear one, we have a history together.

And then I remember.  How those many quiet moments of desperation led me back into Your presence.  How stubbornness got the best of me and brought me low, lower and deeper into raw conversation with You.

The fog begins to clear and I can see glimpses of truth.

How waiting turns into relationship when my fears are melted in the vastness of Your love.  How waiting turns into joy when I experience the breaking in of Your light onto my darkened soul.  How waiting seasons my heart, refining my character and burning away the too many unnecessary things.

See, there’s a history of waiting between You and me.

And so, I declare what I know to be impossible to say by my own strength.  I will remember You.  I will sing of Your great love and mercy.  I will declare Your faithfulness, goodness, and kindness to me, one so undeserving.

So I wait…with hope and expectation.

Because You are Immanuel God.  And that’s all I need to remember.

Amen.

 

Longing for Home // The Importance of Knowing the End from the Beginning

It’s been one of those weeks.  Nothing feels right.  Everything around me is the same as usual, but somehow, nothing satisfies.  I’m missing…something.

Could it be my family who seems miles away?  Could it be my “history friends,” those I can go to and I don’t have to explain anything but they already know?  Could it be a semblance of my old life, the way things used to be?

Part of what I’m feeling could be some of those things.  Yet last night, as I stood worshiping with hundreds of others at our weekly gathering, I felt it.

That yearning, longing.  For home.  For a place I have never been before, but deep within me, my heart instinctively knows what that place is like. Read more…