Tuesday, December 1, 2020

Leaving Home to Find Home

Being a mom of four girls is amazing and wild and hard and rewarding and gut wrenching...all at the same time...because there's four of them and each girl is so very different, experiencing life from a different place. This past August, we dropped off our two oldest girls at college. One of them being a senior, and the other a freshman.

Our second oldest was finally returning to the place her heart had always wanted to be. The years of waiting for this time were now behind us...years of incredible growth, but also deep pain, years that left our girl a bit battered, but rooted...years we weren't sad to see go, but ones that played a huge role in extablishing deep convictions and strength within our daughter.

As I think back to our girl as a child, I remember lots of laughter and words and touching. She always wanted to be touching. From the beginning, she loved people and relationships and being together. She was her mother's daughter...who, just like her momma, was deeply in love with the one male in the house...little did we know what a lifeline her Daddy would be in the years to come.

It feels safe to say that if her father was our girl's first love, fashion came in at a very close second. Our fashionista has never been one to turn down the opportunity for a good wardrobe change, which explains why by the age of three we had to limit how many times she was allowed to change clothes in a day. Early on she dreamed of being old enough to wear high heels, and has since never met a pair of Nike shoes she didn't love. She has always been well rounded in her taste!

As her personality emerged, I began praying that the joy of the Lord would be her strength (from Nehemiah 8:10). I'll be honest in saying that in the beginning, as I prayed this over her, I always wrestled with the idea that she already seemed to be walking in joy...that maybe this verse was "too easy" and I should be praying something more powerful over her. But nothing ever came to me.

In 2008, our family moved from our hometown of Hillsboro, Kansas to Littleton, Colorado. We left family and friends to begin a new season of life that would prove to be formative for all of us. I soon realized, after the move, that our second was struggling. The joy we were so used to seeing in our little one was, at times, being overshadowed by anxiety, and she began to talk of wanting to move back to Kansas. As the year passed, I saw our one who drew so much life from relationships and feeling connected, become lonely and desperate for deep friendships.

Cheerleader mom to the rescue!

Let me clear here, basketball was more of my thing througout high school and college. I took on more of a cheerleading role once I was married and had kids. Having said that, my cheerleading skills are pretty legit. And so, the pep talks and pump 'em up speeches and positive chants were preached and hollered by yours truly for longer than they probably should've been. It took me far too long to realize that there's nothing wrong with a good rally cry, however sometimes it's necessary to leave out the "rally" and know when to just sit with your person and cry.

Cue my husband.

I married a man that has the uncanny ability to engage with his heart, while thinking and listening with an incredible amount of logic. This enables him to know exactly when to speak and when to just sit quietly. He's not afraid of emotion, but he also doesn't become consumed by it. Don't even ask me how...I'm still trying to figure it out for myself. I have no doubt God knew our second girl would need just that when He gave her Vaughn as a dad, and the daddy dates that were originally spent going out in search of a fun treat, soon turned into long, tear filled conversations in the car, and over coffee, and on the bed...


Here's the long of the short of it...while deep convictions were being established in our daughter's heart, lonliness continued to surround her. We watched our ever optimistic child over and over try to establish relationships with depth, only to find herself continually having to make hard choices between friends and those convictions.

In this hard and painful season, though, we also watched something incredibly beautiful begin to grow. Through the wrestling and questioning, through the heartache and bitterness, through the longing and disappointment, we witnessed a slow surrender take place. Our battle scarred warrior slowly began to let go of her hopes and dreams of what life might look like as a high schooler, and chose to lean into a contentment that can only come from the Spirit. The countdown to graduation was on.

Little did we know that graduation would never officially come, thanks to COVID-19. The Spring of 2020 seemed hell bent on bringing this whole hard, long season to a close with one big finale of quarantining, virtual learning, cancelled proms, and drive through graduations. 

We made the most of it as a family. 

The Jost Family Prom will go down in the books as one of the greatest dance parties ever (at least for Vaughn and I), and who doesn't want to attend a family graduation where your Grandpa prays over you, your dad speaks words of encouragement to you, your cousins write and dedicate their own song to you and your Grandma hands you your "diploma", while sharing a scripture that she is praying over you.

Again, in the loss there is beauty.





The day finally arrived for our girl to go "home". Choosing to return to where she came from was never a question. The decision to head back to Kansas was an easy one...until it wasn't.

The panic attacks started in the car as we drove down I-70. First there was quiet, then tears and before we knew it we were having to coach her to breathe. There was a serious attack taking place in our vehicle and we began to battle. It was as if darkness knew just how close we were to joy being re-established in the one who so desperately needed it, and a final attempt to sabotage this taking place was being made.

The battle raged through the entire weekend.

The last morning we were there, my second crawled into bed with me. As I prayed over her quivering body, I had to disconnect from the sick feeling in my stomach and hold on to the certainty in my heart that goodness was just around the corner.

Looking into my daughter's panic stricken eyes, I heard her say, "I'm not ready....I can't do this...I'm not ready!"

Lies.

I knew we were on the brink of something new, and it was a last ditch effort by the enemy to use blatant lies to prevent our girl from running head first into a season she had waited so long to experience. There was no question as to whether or not she was ready. In her long time readiness, she had learned the hard lessons of patience, leaning in, and letting go She took steps of trust as she settled into the waiting and surrendered to something she could not see.

It was time.

"Kyan Elizabeth, you are ready!" I spoke these words over and over, with her face in my hands, eyes locked on hers, believing every word.

The fall semester has come and gone. Gathering around the table for Thanksgiving, we talk as a family about changes and growth and goodness....and in that goodness I hear our second speak of finding her people and loving where she is. I see joy in her face and I have a sense this is just the beginning. I believe the hard years were not just a delay to this new season, but a time of preparation. I see a leader before me and my prayer is that her heart would continue to be captured by the One who has created her, carried her and called her...and there is great peace in knowing she is ready!





To My Girls -- I'm so often overwhelmed as I watch each of you grow throught these new seasons. Kyan, the sadness I feel in missing you here is overshadowed by knowing you are finding "home" there in Kansas. May the joy of the Lord be your strength as you walk in the truth of who He has created you to be! Tyah, as Kyan begins, you are finishing up and I'm so very proud of you! As you enter into your own new season of life, I know God has beautiful things in store for you! Aisha, you've stepped into the role of being the "oldest" in the house with much grace and of course humor. Your sweet spirit is a continual gift to our family. And Aleah, you never cease to amaze me in how you hold your own with your older sisters. You are a combination of grit and tenderness. As you get bounced around between sisters as a roomate, it's always so sweet to watch you love the one you're with. May the four of you always cherish each other, embracing your differences, as you recognize the value each of you bring to this family! There's no one else I'd rather do this life with...even if it means quarantining together for months at a time! :)