THE LORD CALLED MY FAMILY TO THE ATLANTIC COAST long before my twin sons were even born. There’s no doubt in my mind about it, that decree was first given exactly one decade ago. Back then, as many of you know, I was a wedding photographer flying almost weekly from Long Beach to New York, Boston, DC and back, among dozens of other locations up and down the Eastern seaboard. Convincing my wife however to uproot her California heritage and take the journey with me was another story completely. Now that I think about it, you’ve been reading all about that story in OUR WAY IS THE HIGHWAY, if you have indeed been tuning in.
After taking an entire year off from writing I began combing through this blog, and when I stumbled upon my entry from July 17, 2015, You Can’t Dance At Two Weddings, specifically addressing my phone call with Sarah, I was overcome with emotion. Why, because it was in Charleston, South Carolina where God asked me to surrender my dream of living on the East Coast, which I was so entirely certain that He was calling me to, and my career as a photographer, which was the tool employed to secure our futures here, and return home, where my wife was apparently intent on staying.
In time God would take care of the rest.
That hotel, by the way, is about ten minutes away from where I currently sit clapping on this keyboard.
If there’s one thing that I want my readers to understand, it’s that every single destination along the way was meticulously planned and prayed over. The Lord basically held our hands and led us across the United States. I distinctly recall sitting by myself in an Italian restaurant in Hot Springs, Arkansas, eating a plate of linguini and praying over our journey. My wife and I had discussed skipping the country and flying to New Zealand or Australia for six months. I was praying about that decision, and the Lord swiftly answered me: NO, KEEP TO THE SCHEDULE.
While I had originally set an ambitious three year plan to visit the entire continent by way of truck and fifth-wheel, and had basically all of it mapped out, I knew that somewhere along the way God would say, THIS IS IT. As the months passed and the miles added up I also knew we were getting close to the final pit stop. While I had no idea at the time that we’d be setting our roots down in Charleston, I also remember starting up the engine in Savannah, Georgia, and praying that God would carry us safely to the end of our journey. That’s how close we were.
In Charleston the Lord once again spoke to me. He said, and I quote: STAY RIGHT HERE.
Those were His words. We were attending a church service, Calvary Chapel, when He said it. I immediately asked for confirmation, and once again He rephrased, word-for-word: STAY RIGHT HERE. But I was still uncertain on the matter. So once again I asked for confirmation.
For the third and final time He said: STAY RIGHT HERE.
So here we are, staying right where He asked us to be. I guess a more appropriate name for this blog would be: OUR WAY IS THE HIGHWAY AND STAYING RIGHT HERE. In future entries I’ll detail our lives in the Carolina’s, and how Sarah and I both strongly feel that our time for staying right here is coming to an end.