Update

Update: So, I am not in Kona… yet.

As most of y’all know, I was bound for Kona, Hawaii in late September. As many of y’all know, my heart was so excited…

Yet a week before my departure, I woke up at 3 A.M. with fear and anxiety gripping me from my toes to my chest. I began to pray in my bed asking the Father to come close to me, to fill the corners of my mind with the Holy Spirit’s presence. I prayed over my life, my fear, and my anxieties. I prayed for peace with leaving in September, and I felt none. I told Him my concerns. I told Him my desires, my confusion… I confessed my fear.

And then also of the sudden, January. A word, a phrase, an idea of sorts. It was almost a triumphant procession of men and women dressed in choir robes declaring the four syllable word… but it was also a quiet whisper in the dead of night.

To leave for Kona in January felt like a solution to a problem that created another one. I didn’t want to feel “left behind”. I didn’t want three months of loneliness. I didn't want “unnecessary” suffering.

The days following were shaky. I spoke to friends, mentors, and my pastor about the idea of leaving in January. They all listened and conveyed a mutual feeling of peace, understanding and they vocalized that they thought it was the wise thing to do.

That week was hard. I was deciding what the next year of my life would look like while the days leading up to my departure date were dwindling down to hours. That week, I said goodbye to two close friends who were leaving for YWAM in Lynden, Washington. I remember saying goodbye to my dear friend Hadleigh the night before she left for her mission.

We weeped and mourned over the sacrifice of living 3 miles down the street for 3 thousand, and I remember thinking of the artistry of God. Each cry was my thanksgiving plucking at the strings of my heart. It was beautiful. In the fragrant tears and words of life exchanged, God painted a memory on my heart that I sometimes sit in front of and admire. That’s how sweet God is… I have a gallery of anointed memories and praises on canvas, each one is layered , painted, and framed by my creative Father. He paints in times of decision, transition, and fruitful or barren seasons.

My sweet heavenly father walked with me through prayer that whole week, and I decided to leave in January.

The beginning weeks were hard. I began job-hunting, and asked God what He wanted me to do with these 90 something days. I felt doubt in my heart with where my heels had sunken into, and all the while I was missing my dear friends who had gone off to college or moved to states that touched the Pacific.

It was really lonely. My prayers were vulnerable, they were just few and far between.

I want to know you Jesus… I want intimacy with your spirit. Abba, your spirit searches all things, you know the corners and tunnels of my heart’s lonely corridors in which no one else has had footing.

I feel like I have echoed the same prayers over and over again over my life. The capacity of my relationship with you Abba has stretched till the fabric has worn thin… the seams are tired and ripping. You have torn the veil, yet i have sewn myself up in it. Lord, will you tear the seams with me? Will you rip the stitching of disappointment? Explode my soul. Let me run free. For where the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.

Let me become like a child. Let me see you Pa, let my hand be held by yours. Let me not simply obey because I have to, but because I love you, my Jesus. My greatest friend, my love, my forever.

For you do not want my help, you want my heart.

There were times when I would purposely be alone. I would feel guilt, and I would feel shame. It was hard, and it was hurt. But God in His goodness, gave me a great endurance and an unexplainable joy. With prayer, chance encounters, and words of life that have coated me sweetly, I have grown with the Lord.

And now, I have a month left in North Carolina. God is good, and time really does go by much too fast. So, as these days are leading up to shorter weeks until my new departure (January 2), I am asking God for the discipline of intentionality with Him.

But nonetheless, I. Am. So. So. Excited.

With great love, Grace Weaver

P S Below are a few pictures of sweet things I have seen during this unexpected stay