The Loss of Aimee

 

Be careful what you pray for. I am serious. This last year has been a roller coaster. Following a difficult personal situation last fall, I was offered the chance to take my dream job, but it required a move across the country. Reluctantly, I agreed. Leaving my life in the Pacific Northwest near family and friends stung. Craving stability, I was tired of always moving around.

Although this job is pretty outstanding, I have found myself struggling with how my work, worldview, and theology all come together, particularly in the international humanitarian context. Being part of the church in America today has only made it worse, and I found myself re evaluating the very glue that had always been my foundation. It wasn’t Jesus I was wrestling with…it was those of us that identify as Christian. But I was no better, and I could feel my heart was becoming hard.

I remember avoiding my journal…worried what would come out on paper. But at some point, I knew I had to be honest with myself. Life was about to get crazy as work trips around the world were starting to pile up (YIPPPPEEE!), and I knew that it would be challenging to find time to slow down, reflect, and make tangible strides to address the state of my heart. So I prayed that I would gain perspective. I wanted to be softer.

Little did I know the very specific answer to that prayer speeding my way. Every time we pray, heaven moves.

Yikes.

So here I sit, with cancelled work trips, google search history on wigs, and sore, bruised veins. My very independent lifestyle is requiring me to ask for help…and honestly, that’s okay. Because I also have a flood of messages from loved ones offering to stay with me during my treatment and surgeries. I am in awe of the vast support even my work community is providing. My parents have turned their lives upside down to be here and make sure I have what I need.  

My world is changing, and there’s no going back. Choosing joy.