Both/And (Real names have not been disguised.)

"Most things worthwhile in life are difficult."

It's a saying that I've heard countless times before, but coming from Frank, it sinks into my heart. I didn't expect when I met Frank that we would be "kindred spirits" as he says, but now I see that Frank was just as much a part of my journey as his wife Kristen- who was a more obvious (and dear) mentor and friend.

I almost fell in love with Frank's son, which is how I met Frank. All roads lead to Rome.

His name was Ansel, and for everything about him that I hated there were at least three other things about him that I loved. On my journey out west in Bellingham, Washington Ansel became a friend and someone I grew to care about quickly and deeply. He believed in me and my dreams and what I wanted to do with my life. He also pointed out my impulsiveness, my flighty-ness, and my unwillingness to listen. At times, I hated him; at others, I felt like I could love him forever for who he had been to me.

When I hit a wall in Bellingham- out of work, out of money, homesick, and neurotic- I decided to fly back to Tennessee with what little money I had left. I wanted to be home for the holidays, despite knowing that "home" and "family" wouldn't be what they had been when I left for the West coast. Divorce papers signed the day before I got on a plane, home life was going to look radically different. Chattanooga, my chosen home, would be refreshing. Friends, my church, my small group, my city, my parks, my taverns, my local bands, my everything- would refuel me for my journey in Washington. With the support of Ansel and others, I took a "break" from the journey.

I must interject at this point, that when I left Bellingham for Tennessee that November, I had met Frank and Kristen only twice. Kristen and I had become close through phone calls and emails, but to me, at this time, they were still "Ansel's parents."

Hindsight is 20/20, and I know now that the "break" from the journey wasn't a break at all. It was part of the journey. At home I evaluated why I left in the first place, what I had hoped to gain, how God fit into my plans (Yes, I see the error in that line of thinking), and what I had to lose. I also broke communication with most people I knew in Washington in order to clear my head. This "break" also included a break-up.

Kristen and Frank, with Ansel's acceptance of the idea, opened their home to me so that I could come back to Washington with a roof over my head while I tried to get on my feet. Ansel and I had parted ways, but he believed that I could make it with the guidance of some mentors- in particular his mother.

Certain (something that one can never really be), I came back to Washington, not ready to give up on the journey. Wanting to see myself in Seattle living the city life- going to Mariners games, watching Seahawks football (GO HAWKS!), donning my rain jacket with pride, and becoming cooly sarcastic and fashionable- I spent countless hours on my little Mac computer to send countless resumes to non-profits, marketing firms, communication departments, cafes, and any other establishment that I thought would give me a paycheck for my talents. Eventually, I found work, but that is another chapter entirely.

Frank was out of work when I arrived in Washington, and he had been since November. It's amazing to me that at such a time of uncertainty in their household Frank and Kristen let me in. They were a God-send in my life at that time, and they proved their faith by taking in a girl they hardly knew. Their sacrifice was a challenge to me, for who I wanted to be- the kind of person who gives fully of themselves when someone is in need.

Frank wasn't worried about work. He had a peace in knowing that God would provide. Money was tight, for sure, but he wasn't worried. He took life one day at a time, sometimes not making the most of that time, but still- he just went on living. His hands weren't shaking, and he hadn't lost his appetite(which is the state I easily fall into when times are rough). He prayed, and he lived.

Frank moved from Baltimore to Seattle with a friend when he was around my age, and from what I can tell, he was pretty adventurous and care-free. He moved without a job and without knowing where he would live. (Kindred spirits, we are.) Now, he's married to Kristen, an amazing woman, with three (almost) grown boys and a job with the largest technology company in the country. He had his wild days I'm sure, and there were bumps in the road without a doubt, but his life worked out beautifully. For him, it was worthwhile to leave everything behind in the pursuit of life.

I don't believe there isn't one right path. I don't say this in general, and it doesn't apply to every argument. For example, I believe there is one path to eternal salvation for my soul. No two paths look exactly the same, but in their essentials, yes they are the same path. I believe in one God, one Savior, and an ultimate Truth. I'm a college-educated Southern girl with a degree in English, which means that my understandings of philosophical and spiritual truths are a mixed bag of traditionalism and enlightenment.

Yes, God has a Will, but I don't dare suggest that I can ever fully know it. He draws me close to him, close enough to feel the beating of his heart sometimes, and then I am close enough to hear what his heart might be saying. I believe there are times that my head is resting on his chest, and it is at those moments that my path seems most clear. However, to hold a God that I can understand, to trust in a God whose plans are always decipherable, is not a God that is bigger than I am. I don't presume to always know if the path I am on is the one He would have chosen for me- but then again, He chose not to choose my path when He gave humanity the gift of free will. Whatever path I am on, I'm not alone. I know that He loves me. Of that I am certain- it's the one thing about which I will claim to be sure.

Kristen taught me and guided me in listening to the Spirit, and Frank taught me and guided me in the letting go of rigidity. Frank taught me that life isn't black and white. It's not either/or- it's both/and. God might not have an either/or path for my life. Either I go out and learn some life lessons, exploring the great unknowns or I stay home where I'm rooted, without exploration of growth. No. It's both/and. I will learn life lessons and explore the great unknowns and be rooted. I will bloom in a both/and world.

God isn't either/or.

He's not both/and.

God is.

All the categories and the putting of my life into boxes isn't what this is about. If Jesus truly is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, then "most things worthwhile in [Jesus] are difficult."

This is true. Thanks, Frank.