Since Luis and I got married in 1996, we have lived in six different places. That might not seem like many moves to someone, say, in the military, but to this once home-body, who was attached to her Mama's hip, that's a lot! Each place brought a swirl of emotions ranging from excitement to sheer terror, but each location also brought unique lessons that has made our marriage better, stronger, and sometimes just plain comical.
After we tied the knot, we nestled into a cozy, tiny, crooked home in Port Royal, South Carolina. It was a quaint one bedroom, one bathroom home in the heart of what I still think is the most beautiful town in the Lowcountry. Luis and I strolled many times down to the Sands Beach, and would sit on the dock and just talk. I remember a specific day when I told Luis how I just wished a dolphin would come right up to me, and to both of our amazement, a few seconds later, one surfaced about 3 feet away from where we were sitting. That little home on 13th Street was our first home. It saw our first holidays together, our first attempts at a garden, and our first of many, many arguments. It was at the elementary school across the street where I severely injured my shoulder, as we played an extremely competitive game of tennis one Saturday afternoon. I learned that day that I was way too competitive, especially since I was the only one who even cared about winning. One of the most important things we learned in that place of "firsts" was that we had no idea how to handle conflict. I grew up watching too many fairy tales, and Luis grew up living a real life made-for-TV drama. Yes, Divorce Court was just a channel away. We had internal strife that primarily stemmed from external sources, mainly because neither of us were ready to cut the old apron strings...so instead we tied them in knots, and hung on for the ride of our lives. That lasted for a about 2 years. Two very long years. Two years that saw laughter and sorrow, joy and anger. Two years that we both learned that we weren't perfect people and our marriage wasn't made in heaven...yet.
We took a hop skip and a jump to Hampton County, South Carolina. It was the next county over on a map, but in realistic terms, it seems like we moved to another planet. One thing remained constant. We were still five minutes away from family. Only this time it was Luis's family. In reality, our life was exactly the same as in Port Royal. We worked during the week, and spent the weekend with family. In Port Royal, it drove Luis nuts to have to spend every spare moment with my well intentioned, yet overly eventful side of the family who not only was family but was also involved in our ministry at church, and my employer. Wasn't much leaving and cleaving going on from me. In Hampton County, we spent every free second in Estill, South Carolina, where Luis's Mom, Dad and brother lived. I have always affectionately referred to Estill as the "arm pit of America". (Don't tell anyone I said that.) For Luis, it had much nostalgia. It was the first town in South Carolina he lived in. He had a number of friends there. His family was there. And so, too, was I...every waking weekend moment. Toward the end of our "tour of duty", I took to staying home and sulking, instead of accompanying my husband to the in-law's place. I would throw myself the biggest pity party I could muster up. Then, when my Prince Charming would saunter in at 11pm, I would pretend to be sleeping, while I fumed and raged quietly on the inside. I learned that KNOWING what the Bible says about never letting the sun go down on your anger, and DOING what the the Bible says are two VERY different things. I learned that I wasn't as nice as I had always thought I was. I learned that marriage isn't easy and that I wasn't willing to compromise, and neither was Luis. We both dug in our heels, and played a long, drawn out game of tug of war. I went to family and ranted and he went to his. Once again, conflict arose, and we didn't know how to work through it. Looking back, I learned that at the time, kind-hearted Leslie, was stubborn as and ox, and my dear, sweet Luis, was bull headed. So much common ground. Bad, bad common ground.
Miraculously, (in my narrow, selfish view of what I thought would make my life better), a transfer opened in my job back to Beaufort County, back to where we started out. Back to my place of choice. Back to my family. Back to my church. Back to the same old problems. Problems that began to grow like well watered dandelions on a hot summer's day. It was bad. Well, not THAT kind of bad, but it was worse than Port Royal and Hampton all rolled up into one. I don't remember anything very positive at all from this whirlwind of a year. I do remember lots of problems. Overflowing sinks, a hole in the floor, and rats (ugh). The highlight of the year was a visit from my Mom and Dad, who were brave enough to stay with us, and kind enough to look for positive things to say about our shambles of a home. It was really just a reflection of the mess that was...us. We learned several lessons here, hard lessons, that have stayed with us ever since. We learned that no matter how well intentioned family and friends my be, no one has higher authority over a wife then her husband and no one has a higher authority over a husband than God. Period. A very important lessons vital to any marriage. A lesson we both wished we had learned to put into practice from the moment we said "I do". It was during this stop on our journey that we were on the doorstep of divorce. The words were actually spoken. Even though everything seemed to point in that direction, something was still alive on the inside of both of us. We both had a relentless love for the Lord and a desire to walk in His perfect path for our lives. Pulling from that strength, we were somehow able to lay down our weapons, call a truce, and band together. We made a decision to be radical, and break free from anything that tried to divide us, which included some of my family. We made some enemies along the way, because our explanations were brief, our plans were vague, and we chose to follow what we felt the Lord was speaking directly to us, rather than letting someone else make decisions on our behalf. Communication to the local outside world slowed to a trickle, but we maintained confidential contact with those who we felt were praying for our marriage to succeed and believing that God is able to redeem even the most dire of situations. In this year, we learned that God really was (and is) faithful, and His word is true. We learned what it meant to lay down our life, our ideas, and our dreams, for someone else. I learned that just because I believed I had the right answer, didn't mean I had to take out a full page ad in the Beaufort Gazette or the bulletin at Praise Assembly. (Thanks, Mom, you are so wise!) I learned the importance of holding my tongue. THAT, my friend, is a dying art. Some days are easier than others.
So when I said radical, I really meant radical. It was October, 1999, and I picked up the cell phone and dialed my Mom from somewhere deep in the heart of Texas. Luis and I sat side by side in our yellow Ryder rental truck pulling our whole life behind us. I remember crying on the phone to my Mom. My emotions getting the best of me, no doubt. I was a little afraid to be so far away from everyone that I knew. I was nervous that neither of us had jobs waiting for us. But I remember telling my Mom that I had to do this. That I needed to trust Luis, and trust God. I even remember telling her the words God had spoken to my heart that gave me courage to go. I had said to the Lord, "What if this is wrong, and my husband didn't hear correctly from You and we end up flat on our backsides in a ditch!?!" And the Lord spoke to me, clear as day, and said, "Leslie, even if that did happen, I would be right there in that ditch with you." That was the bottom line...it was all I needed to know. I hung up with Mom, and I glanced over at my hubby at the wheel. I knew by the way he smiled at me that he was still in shock that I agreed to move cross-country. Before we knew it, we arrived in San Luis, Arizona. Border town. Sonoran Desert. Population: 13000. Average yearly rainfall: 4 inches. Average high temperature in July: 106. Border Patrol vehicles provided border surveillance by day, and helicopters complete with lights and speakers by night. And as odd as this might sound, I was in heaven. Not because my surroundings were picture perfect and I had everything I ever dreamed of. But because for the first time in 4 years, Luis and I were friends on the same team. I learned so many lessons from this span of six years. I learned that joy in marriage was possible. I learned that my husband's love and dedication for the Lord was real, and that I could trust the Lord in him. I learned that when Godly order is established, there is an automatic blessing that follows. I learned so many things that I can't even begin to list them all...but I need to say one thing. When I crossed state border after state border...a hold that was over my life was broken free. With every mile, I was transformed. And by the time I stepped out of the truck at our final destination, I was not the same woman who began the journey three days prior. Don't get me wrong, I hadn't "arrived" or anything like that. But it was the beginning of a complete overhaul in my thinking, my expectations, and my way of life up until that point. We had challenges and conflict, but this time, we had no where to run, except to God and each other...exactly the way it should have been from the start. Life was good...really good. So good, in fact, that we found good jobs, bought a new home, and our first child came along. We named him Joshua, meaning, "God saves" or "God rescues", how very appropriate. Life became even better, and our second son was born and we named him Jonathan, meaning "Gift of God". We felt like we just kept receiving and receiving from God. The years passed like days, and we were so happy. And then, the unthinkable happened.
Insane...no way...You have GOT to be kidding me...This can not be God. I was certain my husband had flown off the deep end when he very nonchalantly asked what I thought about moving back to South Carolina. "No!" was my first...and second...and I think maybe even my third through fifth responses as well. We were so happy in Arizona. With God's help had beaten the odds, and not ended up as another statistic on the divorce charts. We were a strong team, and had made a home for our family. I was settled in my little nest, with my chicks around me. But Luis made only one request of me: Pray about it. At first, I laughed and tried to ignore it. I thought maybe if I never brought it up again, Luis would forget all about, and life would just carry on. But a seed was planted on the inside of me. And that seed grew. And sprouted roots and grew a stem that stretched until I could no longer ignore it. I knew that we were supposed to go back. I was torn between dread and devotion. Not a fun place. Dread took a back seat, and devotion began to drive. Back to Hampton County of all places, but not five minutes from my in-laws, more like five seconds. We bought the place right across the street. I have wrote at length about our time in Hampton, and the shocks and miracles we witnessed. If you missed it, you can read it here in the entry entitled
Glimpses of God, in retrospect. The lessons we learned in this point of our marriage were at another level than we had ever experienced before. In God's word, He promises that He will never give us "more than we can handle". Our marriage had grown to a bond so strong, that we were able to stand together, even though everything around us seems to be shaken. It's almost as if God was saying, "I am going to do something extremely profound in your lives, and I have made you both strong enough to withstand it. In the midst of the bottom falling out, Liliana Elise made her grand entry. Her middle name is for two of my sisters, and means "promise of God"...right where we rested as the storm raged all around us. We had learned that above all, God was our rock, and He had anchored each of us together to Himself. Looking back at the various places, I can see where I made several huge mistakes. I can see where Luis made several huge mistakes. I can see where my extended family made several huge mistakes. It's funny how hindsight is so clear. Mistakes are tough lessons, but if handled correctly, they make us stronger. Half the battle is admitting you made them in the first place. Many people don't get past that point. Thankfully, the Lord doesn't keep a record of wrongs like you and me.
The reason we came to Anderson was a bit vague, even to us, but we believed that it was the right place at the right time, and still do. There have been some adjustments and fine tuning since we have been here. There have been opportunities that have been presented to us that would seem great in the surface, but we felt we were not to accept. It isn't always easy to explain to well meaning people why you are refusing their offers. It's even more difficult to understand how some people can lack character and integrity, especially when they are church leaders...but people are people, regardless of titles, or positions, and if integrity is missing, it's missing. We had to hold fast to our feelings of what God's ultimate plan was, even if no one else understood. We have settled in a great little town, with great schools for the boys, and have become members of a church that has taught us more in 4 months than we learned in almost two decades in our traditional pentecostal denominations. We have learned the importance of being true to ourselves. Well intentioned people will sometimes use well meaning methods to get you on their "team", but we have learned that we need to be where God tells us to be. It doesn't matter what position is being offered, what fringe benefits are dangled in front of our eyes, or what titles and accolades might be within reach. If we settle for anything less than what God has for us, ultimately we wouldn't be content.
I can't wait until I can record the next section of my life, but for now, I am too busy living it. I can say this: God is definitely working in ways that I thought were impossible, and shedding light in dark places. All I have are pieces, but the puzzle is starting to come together. I am trying my best to try to leave the connections to the Master puzzle maker, since he sees the whole picture and I don't. In the mean time, the voyage continues.
