If you've never been, you'll just have to believe me. It's beautiful. There are floors upon floors of what a perfect house can look like. Perfect kitchen, perfect bedroom, perfect office-- just perfect.
When we got married, I thought we were on track for the IKEA life. I mean sure, bad things happen to good people-- but if those good people also live in an awesome house with fluffy white towels... how bad can the bad stuff really be?
IKEA convinced me that if I just registered for enough fluffy white towels, designer pots and pans, Apple TV and three spatulas, that life after marriage would be perfect.
So, I registered us for the perfect life. I thought of everything we could ever possibly need and then about a hundred things we would never need. I convinced Garrett to let me have the most perfect apartment we could find with new paint and new carpet and vaulted ceilings -- all a part of the perfect equation. I had everything we needed for our life to look like an IKEA catalog, and all we had to do was get married and move in. Life was going to be perfect.
IKEA lied.
After we got married, life kept going.
Not in the perfect IKEA way I thought we were destined for, no.
In the same way that Garrett and Emily had done life before.
We had a beautiful set of pots and pans- that were not dishwasher safe. We discovered this after we put them through the dishwasher.
We had fluffy white towels... until they got washed with one very bright blue towel.
We had this awesome kettle that whistled and everything... until I lit it on fire.
We had matching sugar and flour canisters... until they fell off of the fridge and shattered.
We had an Apple TV remote... until it magically disappeared.
We had a Keruig machine... until it spontaneously died.
We had a blender... until it cracked up the side, mid-smoothie.
The list goes on: can opener, waffle maker, butter dish, Mac charger.
My point is... that the IKEA fairy never showed up in the LeVault household and life kept being life.
We're moving back to Illinois in a few weeks.
We've prayed about this decision for months. We've labored over it, pros and cons, back and forth. This is what we know is right for our family, this is where God's leading us. But this is not what I had planned. This was not part of my IKEA-perfect life.
When we got here I was surprised to find that instead of perfect, I was heartbroken, lonely and homesick. And after a few months of that, I started to wonder why on earth God had brought us to Fort Wayne, Indiana.
I still can't tell you why.
I do know that while we were here, God taught us a lot.
While we were here I had to take a giant dose of humility by becoming a college freshman again, and cleaning up vomit professionally.
While we were here God gave us a small group to do life with.
While we were here I learned to rely on Garrett.
Today is my last day of work; I keep crying about it and laughing too. If you had told me nine months ago that I would mourn leaving Fort Wayne I would have laughed at you. But God changed my heart, He gave me people who love me and a place to belong. And miracle of all miracles, I'm finding it hard to say goodbye.
IKEA was so wrong. You do have to pay for electricity. And my house has never looked like the catalog. But this way is better. I get to watch God being so much bigger than the hard, imperfect things in life. Honestly, I am wrecked over what He has done, how He has blessed us, how things have lined up and the timing that has brought us to this moment.
It is time for us to go. Goodbyes are hard, and plans have changed.
But I am so thankful for a God who shows Himself in the brokenness of my imperfect life.
This past weekend Garrett left for a paintball expedition in the woods (let that sink in). As I was getting ready for bed I noticed a lone bright orange toothbrush sitting on our bathroom counter... mine was nowhere to be found.
As we come to the end of this adventure in Fort Wayne, I'm not sure what to say. God has done amazing things here. None of them were what I had planned. How perfect is that.
With Love,
Emily LeVault
