Think You Married the Wrong Person?

I haven’t really been around for very long at all, so I don’t claim to be an expert by any means, but I’ve experienced a thing or two…

Last night, I attended a wedding of a dear family friend. Two beautiful people joined together by law and by God. Before the ceremony began, thoughts of my own wedding day swirled through my mind.

A BEAUTIFUL BEGINNING

August 16, 2008 is a date that I will never forget. It was magical, perfect and I felt God’s presence and blessings so strongly that day. I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be, exactly when I was supposed to be there. Like a perfectly timed song on the radio, my fairytale had come and everything was as it was supposed to be.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Nick and Alyssa

When we were dating, Nick and I could make anything *feel* magical. But, it wasn’t because we were doing anything particularly special. It was because we APPRECIATED the time we spent with each other, and realized what a blessing the other was. I remember the day the picture above was taken. We simply went to a park after work. We took pictures and laid in the grass and talked about our childhood, our lives, our futures. Nothing was particularly romantic, but it felt romantic as ever. It was ALL mindset.

But, feelings can change. Feelings are fickle.

And, if we aren’t careful, negative feelings CAN rot our most precious gifts….

As the months and years of our marriage began to pass us by, I am ashamed to say, we let the magic fade. Nothing changed about our marriage, really. Nothing changed about the romance. But, Nick’s mindset had shifted a bit, and I had let my mindset change entirely too much.

Instead of simply realizing the blessing of *being together,* we focused on what we wanted next. A bigger house, nicer clothes, more expensive cars…

Suddenly instead of the home-made romance I had cherished before, I came to a place where I had decided I wanted NEEDED more.

I fell for the lie that materialistic things *equal* worth (and, even, your marriage’s worth). I lived in a place where exotic vacations, expensive jewelry, and fancy surprise date nights with red-carpet-worthy dresses were a sure sign of the level of adoration that your husband actually held for you. (Or, so I thought.)

It was horrible. UGLY, really. I don’t like sharing the rather hideous parts of myself (who does?) and I’m ashamed for some of these things I’m about to share. But, it’s the truth… And, though I don’t believe sharing my story makes me any less guilty (only God’s grace does that), I do believe that sharing my story may help someone else.

THIRD YEAR’S THE CHARM?

A week of particularly petty fights had lead up to our third anniversary. Nick had acted like he hadn’t planned anything for our anniversary, and I thought that he possibly was planning some sort of surprise. That there was some kind of plan. Along came our anniversary, a weekday… I went to work and didn’t get any flowers delivered. I came home and didn’t have a card waiting for me. Nick arrived home and asked where I wanted to go to dinner. He thought we should go out but didn’t want to get too far away because he had to get up early for work the next day. So, after much argument, we settled on a small local restaurant in Monroe. Sure, it was the nicest one in town, but Monroe was tiny and this place welcomed construction workers after a long day on shift. I dressed up as best I could, and without a second glance from Nick, we trekked out to the restaurant. The dinner went by uneventfully, like any other night, other than the fact that I spilled my drink completely into my lap.

Ripping disappointment seared through my heart and I felt sorely unappreciated. It hurt. And, I sulked all the way home and when we pulled in the driveway, I ran upstairs and locked myself in my walk-in closet (girl didn’t know how good she had it). Nick was apologetic but also slightly confused. After all, he had asked me multiple times that week what I wanted to do. I had hinted that he should surprise but never came right out and said it. And, let’s give the guy a break, he was 24 years old and pretty new at this whole marriage thing.

When Nick walked away, done with talking through a solid wood door, I rolled into the fetal position and cried out to God. I wondered allowed. “God, did I marry the wrong person? Does he even love me anymore?”

In hindsight, I see so much that was wrong in my thinking. I had put all the pressure on him and hadn’t taken any responsibility for making *him* feel loved either. No, he hadn’t surprised me with much, but all I had gotten him was a card at the grocery story on my weekly shopping trip and expected him to put together everything else. I wasn’t clear with him on what I wanted or expected and, honestly, I hadn’t tried hard at all to appreciate him for the last week, let alone the last few months.

But, that’s all hindsight. At the time, I thought it was a real possibility that I had made a mistake. Or, God had made a mistake. And, that maybe Nick and I weren’t meant to be together after all.

Fast forward 5 weeks later, I’m sobbing in Nick’s arms on our living room couch. He’s just been diagnosed with terminal cancer and I realize that my entire world is being threatened.

So, Did You Marry The Right Person Or Not?

Let me tell you something…. If you have ever thought “Did I marry the right person?” or you are thinking it now…

HOLDING ON to your spouse during the trying times and the questions is what marriage is supposed to be about. Better or worse. Sickness or health. Fancy cars or beaters… You are in this TOGETHER.

When you said your vows, your spouse BECAME God’s will for your life.

Marriage is a sacrifice. You won’t often get what you want. You may even have days or weeks or months where you are struggling for a reason to stay. But, if you do, when you do… I can tell you that it will make all the difference in your life and in your husband’s or wife’s.

A BEGINNING AND AN END

In a short five years, I experienced the BEGINNING and the END of a marriage. We had ups and downs, like most people do…. though I would say that we had many many more joys that difficulties.

My marriage started after I stood on a stage, in front of my family and friends and pledged my life and love to the most wonderful man I had ever known. It started when, with my best friend’s hand in mine and a smile spread wide across my face, we walked down the aisle announced as Mr. and Mrs. Nick Magnotti. We were so excited for the life to come. The decades we would surely have together.

Hello. One… Two… Three… Four… Five. Goodbye.

My marriage ended five years later when I laid down on my husband’s hospice bed in the master bedroom we had shared. His fragile body had barely made an imprint on the mattress, but alone and curled up, I tried to fit into it. I got as small as I physically possibly could, trying to disappear. Noises emanated from my soul that I had never heard before. The pain burned white-hot in the middle of my being. The funeral company had taken my husband away and nothing of him at all was left.

The beginning and the end. So very different. SO. MUCH. JOY. and then SO. MUCH. PAIN.

I may have given up fancy trips and sparkly jewelry by marrying a sweetheart of a mechanic, but my GREATEST blessing was giving up my everything to care for that man in his last days.

On his worst cancer days… When I had to wash him, feed him, turn him, help him with his medications, clean up after him… The days where I didn’t take a second for myself, those days I saw MORE of what it was like to be in a REAL MARRIAGE with REAL LOVE than I could have ever seen on a trip to the Caribbean. 

So, whether you are sacrificing a *little* of yourself each day, or giving up your everything for your spouse, please see it as the blessing that it is. Recognize that our time together is not promised. That YOU ARE VERY MUCH meant for your spouse. And, that you never know what God’s plan is for your life.

Your spouse may act like they don’t need you today, but maybe there’s a day coming when their life, their soul, will depend on you.

And, maybe today, it feels like you would be better off without your spouse, but if you go, I can assure you that you’ll have days you wished you had someone. 

Do YOUR part.

Hold up your end of the bargain.

LOVE with ALL that you have, even if it seems like the other person isn’t trying.

It’s an amazing, AMAZING privilege just to have another person walking by your side in this crazy lonely world. Try not to forget it.<3

 

You Don’t Have to Choose: Second Firsts

Everything that I had hoped for would become impossible.

My husband passed away at 27 years old. We were 6 years into our beautiful relationship, 5 years into our incredible marriage and 9 months into our journey as new parents. And, then, everything just stopped.

He was gone. More than anything he had wanted to stay. I had wanted him to stay. The pull on my soul had, at times, convinced me that my love would hold him here. That God would see our connection, see our entwined hearts and gracefully hand us our miracle.

No such luck.

Alyssa and Nick
Alyssa and Nick, Los Cabos Mexico, 2008

Fast-forward almost two years later and I find myself, in a crazy turn of fate, in love with one of my late husband’s dear friends. Neither of us would have ever guessed. We hardly saw each other until just four months ago, but Nick and Jay had held a strong bond over the years while Nick was still with us.

This new relationship has been nothing short of romantic, poetic and truly bittersweet, all at once.

At first I was haunted by certain thoughts, certain “what ifs”, certain impossible scenarios…. Such as: “If Nick found his way back to us, what would I do? Who would I choose?”

These questions were starting to drive me insane. Because, here’s the thing, you can’t compare two different loves.

You can’t choose. So don’t make yourself. And, don’t let anyone else tell you that you must.

Last night I had a dream. I was in a white room, white everything. Bright and vivid. Nick, my late husband, was standing in front of me, about 25 feet away, clear as day. He looked beautiful. He was looking past me and said, “You have to choose.” I turned around and 25 feet the other way, stood my boyfriend (Jay) holding my daughter’s hand, and, dear God, they looked beautiful too.

I woke up just after the dream. 4am. It felt like God was telling me that I could choose life, to go on living with the living. To embrace Jay and Austyn, the blessings that I still have on this earth. Or, I could choose to drown in the memory of all that I lost. To let my now-impossible dreams strangle me.

As I thought on it more, I wondered. Was Nick telling me I had to choose him or I had to choose Jay? But, no, it was distinct. So clear. I don’t have to choose between them. I just have to choose whether or not I want to continue actually living my life.

Nick always told me that once he was gone, he would want me to fall in love again. That he wanted me to share my life with another. I refused to listen at the time, but now am happy he told me. A lot of spouses don’t get the chance to discuss it, or jealousy gets in the way, but I honestly think that all of our loved ones who have passed on would only truly want for us to be happy.

I feel like I’m supposed to share this. Like others need to know. So, forgive me but I’m going to repeat myself again. Just gotta make sure we get this straight. Everyone needs to understand this.

WIDOWS DON’T HAVE TO CHOOSE.

Jay and Alyssa, 2015
Jay and Alyssa, Paris France, 2015

If you are in the same club as I… If you’ve lost your spouse, your dream, let me urge you to keep away from the unrealistic and insane questions about choice.

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO CHOOSE between your lost love and a new one.

You DON’T actually even HAVE a choice as far as that is concerned. You can’t go back to your spouse because they are gone. Your only choice is to move forward. That doesn’t mean that you are going to find someone anytime soon or even that you will ever fall in love again.

But, you DO have ANOTHER CHOICE to make. Will you choose life?

Will you choose to move forward? I am.

Moving forward doesn’t mean forgetting. It doesn’t mean that I’ve hardened my heart. Moving forward doesn’t mean I love my late husband any less. Moving forward doesn’t mean I’m over it or over him. It DOES NOT take the pain away. It doesn’t mean losing a part of me. It doesn’t mean losing any part of him. Moving forward isn’t about winning or losing. It isn’t about pulling ahead or falling behind. It’s not about blocking memories, ignoring sad thoughts or rejecting the truth. Moving forward is simply my choice to live again.

All I had with Nick is gone now. I was happy. Then, my heart was broken.

But, suddenly, I’ve realized that everything I thought was impossible, is HERE. NOW. Even though it looks a helluvah lot different than I thought it would…

I’ve walked through dark black valleys, near-drowned in the waves, and split my tired feet to get here. But, I’m moving forward one step at a time.

There’s no “arriving.” Your aim should not be to complete the process labeled “move on.” There is no such thing as grief being “over.”

But, there is LIVING. YOUR. LIFE…

That’s what I’m aiming for and I’m trusting in God as I go. Currently living a fairy tale, another beautifully impossible love story come to life. And, because I know nothing is promised, I’m loving with a very real awareness of life’s fragility. And, I’m determined to soak up as many of these blessings as I can, while I can.

So, what do you think? Have you struggled with these thoughts as a widow/widower? Have you blocked yourself into thinking that your story is over just because your spouse’s life ended on this planet? Comment below or email me at alyssa (dot) magnotti (at) gmail (dot) com.

Believe in Sundays

Having a hard day? A hard week? A hard year? BELIEVE that your hard days will end. Your Friday WILL. END. And… Sunday WILL. COME! Believe with me, will you? The light IS coming!

0 A.D. – Calvary

Only when she breathed again did she realize that she’d been holding her breath for far too long. The moment of shock finally passed. The clouds rolled in. And, she realized that it wasn’t all just a nightmare after all. That this was real life. That the very worst had just happened. He was gone. And, there was nothing in the world she could do about it.

That Friday was the worst day of her life. He had died. The man she had come to love and know as her beloved friend. The man whose every word brought relief and light; whose very presence made the world a better place. His smile had been bright, his hugs had been sincere, his laughter was contagious. She chastised herself for believing in the first place. He couldn’t have been more than any other man she had met. How could she have fallen for that? He couldn’t have loved her *that* much. How could he save her if he couldn’t even save himself?

The tears came as her dreams crashed all around her. She saw her future implode. Everything a shade of grey, everything a shade of ash. That Friday brought a cold darkness that threatened to crush her very soul. How long would this grief last? Would she ever be the same?

After seemingly endless days of a broken and bitter dark, Sunday came. Oh, sweet Sunday came…. And, that Sunday brought a joy and a light unlike that that she had ever seen. It brought a miracle she had already given up on.

Her hope had been lost, but He was back… He had conquered the impossible! He had risen! No, his death wasn’t a dream. The torture she’d witnessed wasn’t an illusion… But, NEITHER. WAS. HE.

He was REAL. He really WAS who He said He was. He was the best friend she could ever hope to have, the realest man she had ever known… And, He came back for her. Just like He said He would. He was here and He would never leave her side again.

“It is me.” She saw His hands, looked into His eyes… And He held her. That very embrace gave her strength enough for the rest of her days…

He might have moved on, but He never actually left. He was with her. He was alive and He was with her. And, it would always, always be so.

We never know how long our Fridays will last… But Sunday WILL ALWAYS come.

“He saw and believed.” John 20:8
“I am always with you.” Matthew 28:20

#HeIsRisen #Believe

—-

Us again

Austyn & Alyssa

At Least I Am Moving

I want to change. I want to:

Slow down.
Be a better listener.
Be less concerned about others’ opinions and more concerned about God’s.
Have more fun.
Be a blessing.

I know I could do so many things better. So many things. I could be such a better person. When I pay attention to my thoughts… I can hear it. I can hear the person that I don’t want to be. The one that worries constantly, that judges others, that blames herself most of all. But, most of the time, I’m not paying attention to my thoughts. I’m just letting them run. Im just being “me.” Im just being my “normal” self. The self that I’ve become in twenty-seven years of living and sacrificing and striving and wanting.

As much as self-reflection hurts, as much as it stings… It’s necessary in this journey if we want to be better. It would be SO much easier for me to say, “Well, this is just who I am. I can be selfish, I can be jealous, I can be petty, and I can be stiff. I guess you all just have to deal with it.” But, I CAN also change.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s too late. I’m in my late-twenties (too funny! I totally just typed “mid-twenties” and realized that almost-twenty-eight is pretty far past that. Nice try, darlin!) and my life has shaped me. The culture I’ve grown up in, the parents I had, the situations I’ve faced, the deaths that I’ve seen, the books that I’ve read, the propaganda that flashes before my eyes, the truths I’ve experienced, the lies that I’ve trusted, the way my thoughts have twisted realities… the list goes on and on.

It’s true to a degree that no one can deny… that we are shaped by our circumstances. Not entirely, no. But, at least markedly. Growing up in the Seattle is different than growing up in Taiwan. Growing up in a nice house in a good neighborhood is different than growing up in a mobile home park governed by drug lords. Growing up with parents who cared and tried their best is different than growing up with parents who remained painfully disinterested.

We all have things that mark us. We all have things that scare us. Things that scar us.

Our choice is how much we heal. Our choice is what we do about it. Our choice is looking past what we “know.”

step it up

We can decide to unlearn the things our heart has grasped onto.

You CAN be loved again.

You CAN be happy.

You CAN succeed.

You CAN trust in the goodness of God, even when you are standing in the broken mess of your life.

So, you haven’t made it as far as you would like by now? Yeah. Me neither. You feel older than you’d like? You feel like you haven’t made a difference? You feel like time is passing too quickly and your soul isn’t catching up? I feel those things too.

But, no matter what you see, what you feel. If you try and believe it will work, you WILL make progress. I believe it.

Big changes can be so entirely overwhelming. How can I alter my fast-pace to a life lived in slow, trusting, seeing peace? How can I go from loud to quiet so others can have a voice? How can I stop caring what the world may think and start caring more about God? How can I have fun when I know the accidents that can occur when we let down our guard? How can I change from living every hour for myself to living every hour as a blessing to others?

You might have different things that you know you could improve on. Maybe you want to be a better person and to do that you know that changes must be made: to your health or your relationships or your thoughts.

Feel overwhelmed? Like the drastic end result that you are trying to achieve is just too far away, too far off from the person you are today? Just remember that God will help you if you ask. We can’t sit back and not make changes and expect God to do all the work, but we CAN do the work with God by our side. All it takes is a prayer and a single step. Every. Step. Counts.

Even if you take only one step forward and end up falling two steps back… at least you are moving. 

I know what I want. And if it takes me a lifetime of trying… only to eventually fail, at least I’ll know that I tried. One baby step at a time. Focused on the God who tells me I can walk on water. I can trod on my mistakes. I can step on the lessons I’ve learned and use them to propel me ever-forward.

I believe in a God who is constant in His ability to love us…. His love molds me, teaches me, shows me.

I don’t HAVE to be better for Him. He loves me already. I don’t HAVE to do anything, but I want to.

I want to be more like the person I was made to be. I want to be changed by Him from the inside out. So, I pray for Him. I pray for more of His presense. More of His peace. And, then… I walk.

One step.

Two steps.

Three shaky steps.

I am on my way! I’m in motion. Let’s hope our momentum propels us forward. Wish me luck!

I share these thoughts not for me, but for you. I shared this post in my personal journal and decided then that it might be something to help another. Did it help you? Any thoughts? Please share this post as much as you’d like. Let’s move together. There’s no use in going it alone.

What Are You Living For?

You were put here for a reason. I believe that, wholly. And I believe that purpose is holy.

I believe that every day that you are here is a day that was created with you in it on purpose.

Some days that can be hard to believe.

But, hold on, dear one. And, know that your purpose isn’t to be discouraged or let down or defeated. You are alive and you ARE victorious.

Trying to find your purpose? I think God has made it pretty clear. Whether you believe in the Bible or not, even the Universe points to it. Anything that makes this world a better place is full of love. Love is something (and possibly the only thing) that is worth living for. It’s worth breathing for. It’s worth even the grey-ist of days.

If I give everything I own to the poor… but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I am nothing without love. (1 Corinthians 13:3 MSG)

And, I’m not talking about the kind of love you see on most television shows. Or the kind of love splashed on the front pages of magazines. I am talking about real love.

A love that never gives up. A love that cares more for others than for self. A love that doesn’t want what it doesn’t have. A love that doesn’t strut. A love that doesn’t have an ego, that doesn’t force itself on others. A love that isn’t always “me first” and doesn’t get angry easily. A love that doesn’t keep score. That doesn’t keep track of the sins of others. A love that doesn’t revel when others grovel. A love that takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, puts up with anything, trusts God always, sees the best, never looks back but keeps going to the end. A love that never dies. (1 Corinthians 13:4-8 MSG) Love is an infinite victory.

We are not called to judge, or to wield our opinions as swords. We were called to come alongside our sisters and brothers, every single one. We were called to show love. Smile at that stranger. Forgive the person that said the wrong thing at the exact wrong time. Offer an encouraging word to the parent trying to wrangle their small child at Target (chances are it’s me, anyhow). Send a note. Give a hug to someone you love.

Meet each and every person with kindness and with overflowing love. For every single person you encounter is facing a challenge that you know nothing about.

Be brave. Live to love.

My prayer for purpose:

“Lord, be with me. Help me to emulate light and love as naturally and effortlessly as you do. Amen.”

I’ll Let Go If You Will

Funny isn’t it? How a beginning of one thing requires an end of something else.

How we must open up our hands and let go to be able to grab on to the next thing? It can feel impossibly difficult to let go, especially when you are at the end of your rope. Especially, even more so, if the rope you’ve been holding onto is actually just a thread.

More often than not, these ropes and threads are made of fibers of fear. Our fists are tightened resolutely around what we fear we might lose.

We cling to our jobs, to our image, to our children, our spouses, or our bank accounts. What we want is control. What we want is security. We believe that if we hold something close enough there is no way it could break. But, what we tend to forget is that we aren’t gods. There are things we can’t control. And there are things that if held too tightly, and we aren’t careful, could shatter into a million pieces.

There is a time for everything. And, I think our time has come. To give up control. To let go and let go again. It’s time for you to be who you were made to be. It’s time to be brave. It’s time to open up those hands, drop that thread of security, toss those fears, and throw your empty hands skyward. Lift them and open them up to whatever it is that God wants to give you. Whatever it is He wants to show you.

Is it scary? Heck to the yes. Sometimes it seems like the scariest thing in the entire world. But, there just isn’t another way to do it. Living this life in fear… I promise you… isn’t what we are meant for.

Bravery is woven into our very being. Fear causes flying wings to flutter and falter. We must make the decision to let go of your fears if we truly want to fly.

You… You were meant to jump, friend. You were meant to live by faith.

What if you fall?

Oh, but what if you fly?

Your soul was made to soar.

This summer I let go of a few fears myself. I wish I could say that it was easy… that I was a natural. But, I wasn’t. Oye. I had to pry my fingers up one by one. It was painful and it sure wasn’t pretty. Living scared can feel a heck of a lot easier than living free.

Back in May, I was beginning to feel like God was telling me I was ready for a new relationship. And, I was scared out of my mind. Mainly for what people might think. Nick had told me over and over again at different intervals through his two and a half year illness that if he died he would want me to find someone again. Near the end he made sure to tell me again, except he didn’t say if, he said when. Inhale. Exhale. Yeah, that was hard. Overtime he told me, I fought him. I said I couldn’t imagine it. And, I honestly couldn’t.

But, once he was truly gone (and I realized that I was only 26 and not 76 like I had felt), I felt God telling me it was time to really consider being (or trying to be) in a relationship again. I had lost parts of Nick and parts of our relationship over such a long period of time and I had grieved those losses every second of every day for years. The thought of beginning again was scary, especially so soon. I was so fearful of what people might think. (And, that is a blog post in and of itself. The fears that one faces when you know what God is telling you but know that it may not be a “popular” path. Maybe I’ll go over that at some point soon.)

I remember putting Austyn down for a nap and going to my room to pray. My dad was living with me at the time, but he wasn’t home. And, that was definitely a good thing, because I collapsed. I couldn’t even make it to the couch. I fell on my hands and knees and the tears began to flow (that sounds dainty… It was more like pour, rage, cascade, gush…. Gross). The gravity of what I thought God wanted me to do felt too much to bear. How could I go on when I had finally begun to understand that there really was no going back?

I cried out to God and I prayed a big prayer. I asked God to look after whoever He had in mind for me next. I poured out to Him and my heart spoke. I knew that the only relationship that could sustain me at this point would be one that pushed me closer to Him.

So I asked God for that. I told Him that if I was to ever be in another relationship, I wanted one that brought me closer to Him. That made me stronger in Him. That made me more like Love.

Secondary to that, I wanted someone who could truly love me and love my daughter.

“And nothing else matters.” I proceeded to tell God what didn’t matter… Career. Money. Looks. Location. Dog or Cat person (I took that one back… He has to be a dog person… Just kidding).

After some time on that floor, I finally felt like I could pick myself back up. From there, I knew that God had it in His hands. I felt complete peace that He had a plan. And I didn’t know if I would meet this guy soon or in a few decades but I knew, as Nick had known and even shared with our pastor, that God had someone else in mind for me.

Fast forward a week or so. Life had gone on as normal, which included about a million diaper changes (tad exaggeration) and many wonderful moments spent staring into my sweet daughter’s eyes (when she would sit still long enough that is).

I had decided to create an account on a Christian dating site. And, let me tell you creating that profile was scaarrre-ey. Some of the emails that followed were downright horrifying (I kid… sort of). After just a few days, I was about ready to delete the whole thing when a message caught my eye.

There is so much I could tell you from there… About all of the things that God did to even get me to give this guy my number, let alone my real name. He lived in Florida so a quick coffee date wouldn’t work but we were able to get to know each other through email and, eventually, long phone calls. Then, he came up to Seattle for a week. We hung out and he was exactly who I thought he was. A strong man of God that had been through a lot, like me (well, not the man part).

This summer, I had the opportunity to take an extended vacation. I had been thinking about Southern California, but decided to change my plans. Instead, I went to Pensacola, Florida unsure of what would transpire. The month was lovely. I spent time and made time. And then spent it again.

And a good portion of that time was spent in the company of my new friend. As we grew closer, I knew that God had some kind of plan and, though I was so tempted to run in the other direction, I held on.

After much prayer on both of our ends, we became official (I felt like I was in high school again… I have a “boyfriend”… It felt like it had been ages) in August. And, before I left for Seattle, we began praying about our next steps. Neither of us wanted a long-distance relationship and we didn’t think God necessarily wanted it for us either. But, we were on literal opposite ends of the country. How in the world would we make this work?

It would be hard to write out what transpired in those last few weeks. But, God made it clear in our hearts that we were supposed to be in Florida. He started with me. And I tried so hard to ignore it; to pretend I didn’t hear or feel His prompts. But, eventually I gave in and admitted it. It felt like making that leap (or many leaps, across the stinking country!) was God’s best option for me.

Now, let’s take a detour for a second here. It’s not that I believe that God wouldn’t have blessed me had I decided not to move. God works in mysterious ways, that is for sure. And we definitely have a choice. We can follow what we believe is God’s voice or we can turn away. We can attempt to listen, or we can listen to the world. It’s really up to us and was up to me, but I felt like God’s best (read: best, not only) option for me was to make this move. Ok, back to the story.

Instead of holding onto my fears and refusing to believe He could be asking for such a thing, I decided to take a step. And, as soon as I made the decision to trust, I was given peace again.

When I told my family and my closest friends what was on my heart, they confirmed what I was feeling. That scared little voice inside me (you guys have one too, right, that’s not just me?) was actually hoping that at least one of them would think I was crazy. That at least one of them would beg for me to change my mind. But, honestly, they showed care, asked the right questions, said they would miss me like crazy but supported me through and through. I really do have the best friends in the entire world. (Why do they have to be so awesome?! I miss my Washington mountains, dangit!)

So…

I sold my home.

I sold about a third of my furniture.

And, I signed a lease. (And, God worked crazy miracles – yes, plural – into each one of those events. Oh how I wish I could tell you fast enough!)

There you have it. I’m now living in an itsy-bisty Florida town on the Gulf of Mexico so that I can be closer to the one I love. So that we don’t have to be long distance. So, we can see what this is all made of. I took the leap.

Let’s fast forward again (because, let’s face it, I’m long-winded… I start a short storytelling bootcamp next week – psych!).

This move has taught me so many new things. It’s challenged me in ways I never imagined. It’s required bravery on days when I was sure I had none left. Though I can’t say that I know what God is doing or if this is a final destination, I can say that this adventure has brought me so much closer to God. And, if we remember from my uber blubbery prayer sesh on the floor back in May, that is exactly what I wanted.

And, my new relationship? It’s certainly pushed God and I closer still. It’s helped me see myself clearer than I have in a long time. I have an absolutely amazing man in my life. His heart is humble but brave, strong but loving, determined but gentle. He is certainly committed to a life filled with God, committed to me and committed to my little girl. This was my second request. I’m enjoying that for now.

So, here I am in a new city (on what feels like a different planet). Trying to be brave and aiming with all my might for hope. Working through a new, amazing (and different) love. I’ve got a beautiful daughter with a fighter’s heart. And, I’ve got a God on my side who I know will always have my back… I truly am blessed.

Unfortunately, I still can’t see the future (I know… shocker, right?!). I still want to clamp my fists so tightly around what I know. I’m often tempted to run headlong to my fears, grab on tight, and let all the things that could go wrong take over. Sometimes I long for the old, the remembered, the comfortable. But, then I remember something that someone very special to me used to say all the time… We aren’t to worry because “God’s got it.” (That would be my dear sweet late-hubby’s wonderful quote).

Whatever you are facing, whatever challenges, whatever fears keep you up at night… Maybe you can try, like me, to choose faith over fear. To cast aside your worry. To lift those wings, weightless, with nothing to tie you down. After all, that’s what you were made for.

Being brave is a choice. Choosing hope is courageous. I’ll let go if you will. …You first! ;]

Love, A

PS: Stay tuned for more posts and videos coming soon! If you haven’t yet, follow me on Instragram and my other social media profiles to be updated of new happenings. The links are the beautiful blue icons to your left… No, your other left… ;]

PSS: I built this site on my own, but I had some major awesome help from two very awesome people (who both actually worked on the TeamMagnotti project with me too)!

BIG HUGE THANKS go out to Kyle Chicoine for his amazing logo design. He took my concepts and sketches and turned them into a little bit of delicious digital eye-candy. The logo is so perfect and cute, I could wrap it up and sing it a lullaby!

ANOTHER HUGE THANK YOU goes out to to my friend Jordan for his mastery of web design and superb coding knowledge. Without him, my site logo would probably still be in a very obscure and unflattering locale. Thank you, friend!