the painful places

 My sophomore year at Asbury my mama was diagnosed with a rare, aggressive form of leukemia. Every weekend I drove from Asbury University to the Cleveland Clinic and back again until I finally withdrew to fight her last months alongside. 

Came back the next semester and fell in love with Matt Ayars at the cereal bar. (He was so cute. And understood grieving with me vs. uncomfortable avoidance.)

So crippled and heavy by grief and brokenness, I withdrew again and spent 6 months in Port-au-Prince where the Lord absolutely met me with true healing and hope and a call for my life, not finished. 

Back to Asbury, eyes on the missionfield, poured into by many, on purpose….then One Mission Society….then married that good man…then graduated in Journalism and Foreign Missions and on to Haiti. 

And for 20 years I have avoided going back to Asbury—sweet and sacred though she carried me five years—because my mama moved me in and never came back. Because my dad’s eyes, in all the Asbury years, were dark and hollow and lost. Because I have always regretted I wasn’t there for my siblings that season. Because I was utterly broken down and painfully rebuilt those years. It was the hardest time in my life, and easiest to bless it, move on and put behind.

This week, with four teens, my dear friend and that same man from the cereal bar….it was time. Past time. Somehow in a blink my own babies are trying to decide where to do their launching and stretching and calling, and no way we weren’t visiting Asbury University.

We had lunch with the sincere and humble president and with the gracious and brilliant provost (who sent me a precious gift when my dad died, having never even met me). We worshiped in the senior section, all the memories of hymns and convictions and the opening of eyes just rushing in. 

We toured the buildings, old and new and remembered dozens of little stories I’d long forgotten. We toured the equine center and saw a baby calf born. We providentially reconnected with BOTH our RD’s and even in those rich conversations did He pour healing! We tucked all the kids into the OMS student center, dripping with photos and stories of mission fields waiting for beautiful feet to bring Good News. 

We stayed at the seminary where my parents always stayed, ate at the restaurant where Matt worked all four years, walked in the Shaker Village sunshine my mom loved so much, poked our heads in the classrooms that grew us, found our pictures in the basement of Hughes, and—the moment that flooded me most—toured the women’s dorms with giggling girls. 

For all the life-changing education and chapel services and cereal bar experiences, that dorm, that 2nd Glide hallway, that was where God walked with me. Became my daily bread. Became my constant companion. That was where I tested Him and found Him faithful. Room 215, four years, that was where He ceased being just my parents’ Lord and became mine. Standing in that hall yesterday, literally stepping over girls sitting on the floor talking and praying together, that was ME a minute ago. Who we REALLY are with Jesus is who we are HOME.  

God brought so much grace, growth, mercy, friendship and love to my life through Asbury University, and when I finally forced myself to face the painful place…it wasn’t. 

All I can see now is His gracious, steady and loving hand in my life. What peace trusting the slow work of God brings me for these beautiful teenagers, in His hands.