The House That Knew Me: The Summit

Right now, as I sit here, I feel like I've run a marathon.

I have accomplished the biggest feat that has been in my mind's eye for the last six years, and it's here. A new morning has dawned. I have reached the summit of the mountain. I did it.

I sit in wonder of an amazing and all-powerful God. I cry tears of joy and gratitude for his loving mercies and faithfulness to me. He was with me all along. He was waiting for me to take the first step, and when I did, the doors opened.

God, I am so in awe of you. Thank you for all that you have given me.

Taking this journey with you has been so long, such a battle, and now here we are. I feel like I am standing on the top of the mountain watching the sunrise peek over the mountain range. My body is completely exhausted. All I can do is cry tears of joy and relief.

This past month, I have been overwhelmed by this mountaintop experience — by how my community stepped in and showed me great acts of love and care, helping me along the way on this journey. Whether it was just being a listening ear, helping me pack up my things, move them into my new home, or donate unused home items to me.

You can't achieve greatness without community, and I am so grateful that the Lord has blessed me with them.

This past month — or maybe two — I have been in complete party mode. Exhausted and alive, I celebrated every night; heck, every spare moment I had quickly turned into a dance party in my living room, followed by worship nights as tears ran down my face.

I had absolutely no routine or structure to my life. No bedtime, no workout routine, no healthy guidelines — heck, I was eating cookies and chocolate cake every morning for breakfast. I told my friends I felt like I was on vacation. The party never stopped; I felt so alive. I would wake up in the morning and thrust open the curtains like I was in a Disney movie. Everything was magical, everything glowed. I couldn't stop staring at my floors, I couldn't stop cleaning and watching everything sparkle. I would walk into my garage and my heart would fill with gratitude, realizing I don't have to scrape ice off my windshield or run my car for five minutes just so it would heat up enough to drive.

I was in love.

But I knew eventually the party would end. And now that it has, I find myself wondering, "What's next?"