Month twelve of year twenty-fourteen. I am sad to see the year near a close, but it's a different sort of close than that of a good book. There's an emptiness and almost a loneliness that I feel when I finish a good novel—I grow attached to the characters and become familiar with their world. When the remaining pages are few, I begin to read more and more slowly, putting off the ending as long as possible. At the close of a book, I'm not ready to say goodbye to it all; I wish for more.

I feel very differently about the close of a year. Yes, I have been breathlessly caught up in the adventure of it all, entwined with the characters and have become familiar with the rhythm, rises and routines. The cliffhangers of a year have me at the edge of my chair, but at the close of a year, I don't fear the dust that it will soon gather as the thirty-first page of the twelfth chapter conclude.

I simply wake up the next day. I kiss the neck of the man sleeping beside me, pull on a sweater and tiptoe across the chilly kitchen floor to put a kettle on for coffee.

This past year brought pleasure and pain, highlights and shadows, crags and chasms. Each have enriched the story in a unique way—after all, what is a story without contrast? 'Tis monotony. A succession of bland interactions; a drone, unvaried in pitch and tone. With heights and depths there are opportunities to respond and feel, to trust and hope, to wait and see.

Ah yes, I will wait and see, because the conductor has not laid his baton to rest. Whether major or minor the chord, the resolve does not occur without the final wave of his hand, and it has not yet waved. I have peeked ahead to see the final movement of the piece, and am reassured to know that the end is more epic than the interlude.

Last week, Taylor and I got to escape and get away to our honeymoon spot! It was the most wonderful way to spend our one-year anniversary! We were so refreshed by the crisp mountain air, a cheery fire in the fireplace, sizzling bacon in the mornings and the endless breath-taking wonders to be seen in ever direction!

We spent every morning sleeping in, multiple afternoons racing about on quads and most evenings cuddled up by the fire with our books in hand.

Ladies, I would like to share something with you. Every day that I wake up beside this man, I am reminded that God is good. Yes, He is faithful and good. He knows me, my needs and my weaknesses better than I ever will—He knows yours too. Though waiting is hard, please, please, please know... it is so very worth the wait to be with the man that God brings in His good time—no matter how long and hard the wait.

A few years ago, I resigned myself to settling. I decided this, despite the fact that I knew with every fiber of my soul that God was asking me to loosen my grip and release my future and my love life into His care and orchestration.

Mmm, no, thank you, God. I'm just fine. I found a path that that will work just for me. Besides, it's not worth the drama and heartbreak that would surely ensue if I gave it into Jesus' care! I'll make do and I'll be happy.

I am stubborn, but God is patient. Over the next six months, the Spirit steadily spoke to me so gently and patiently saying,

I am the architect and caretaker of your heart and soul—Trust me, child. Give the broken pieces into my hand, that I might make them into something beautiful.

I ignored this sweet, clement voice. I was resolute. I was too deep now to turn back without experiencing the agony and chaos resembling that of a collapsing star.

Then, all at once, I was given clarity to see that my soul was lying in a heap in the midst of the road I had stubbornly chosen. I was exhausted from carrying a weight so heavy. I had no idea why God was asking me to give up the one thing I thought was 'in the bag'... but He was.

"These trials are for the testing and strengthening of your faith—they are waves that wash you further upon the rock—they are winds which waft your ship the more swiftly towards the desired haven. I cannot, Lord, Thy purpose see, yet all is well since ruled by Thee." —Charles Spurgeon

I had little faith. In the moment I realized this, I also realized that when much grace is needed, much grace is given. I needed it—badly. So, to make a long story short, I will just tell you that I let it go. My shoulders felt bare with the absence of my weight. I had forgotten what it felt like to breath.

I was a soul that had fallen apart, but that He has pieced back together! I'll be honest and tell you that the process and choices of trusting and faith can be quite tedious and uncomfortable, even excruciating at times. But, oh! The joys of seeing your failures and dead ends being transformed into something beautiful is beyond description! It is JOY.

Jesus is a carpenter who makes beautiful things. He makes masterpieces out of fallen trees.

Like I said earlier, every day that I wake up next to Taylor, I am reminded of the goodness and faithfulness of my Jesus. I am reminded of that grace He gave to trust. I am reminded every day that I don't know the best plan for my life, but God does.

A lesson that I have learned: if God ever tells you to drop anything to follow Him—it is always worth it. Don't hesitate. Do it.

You don’t have to understand God to trust Him. Restoration and peace are His specialty. He will be your refuge and your strength. Right now, quietly turn to Him. He is waiting.