I’m a big believer in the number 7. Back in December 2019, when Luke was in ICU for a month I wrote –
“This morning, the 27th day of December, marks the 7th time I’ve sat in a room surrounded by soothing pastel paintings as I wait for news while a surgeon slices through a loved one’s head. In a few days we’ll flip our calendars to 2020 and that’ll mark seven years of our family living in Tennessee. Seven and Surrender. A word and a number now claim my thoughts.”
And each of these concepts – Seven and Surrender – have been continuous reverberations since that day in late December. I knew when we flipped the calendar to 2020 that something was about to change and possibly come to fruition although I wasn’t entirely sure what it was going to look like at the time.
In Biblical history, the number 7 is drenched in meaning and represented completion, rest, and victory. The completion of creation which culminated in rest on the 7th day, every 7th year was set aside for God’s chosen people as a year of rest and jubilee, and Joshua’s march around Jericho which resulted in victory on the 7th day.
On that gut wrenching day in late December when I sent my son off for brain surgery yet again, I chose to surrender to a will higher than my own and 2020 did unravel – for sure! – into a complete ridiculous reality in many ways: Ryan’s surgery, my broken foot, quarantined with 8 children, loss of income and lots of despair and questions, but it also brought blessings: a book deal, a podcast, a documentary project, healing for Ryan and Luke, the sale of two houses; a breakthrough with Luke’s communication, and clarity over what is important for us in life, particularly the importance of being immersed within the community of friends and family. Last summer, our 7th year in Tennessee, that clarity resulted in a decision to purchase land and build a house in Michigan. Yes, we are moving back to my home town.
Our hearts have been slowly accepting this move for over a year and included whispers of “Should we? Could we?” And after Luke’s (and then Ryan’s) surgeries, we knew that “Yes, we had to.” We had to move back home for resources and support. We could no longer do this immensely chaotic and exhausting life on our own, and if we attempted to, it might destroy us. We needed help. We need options when something goes off kilter, we need people to surround us when the unexpected occurs, and this became crystal clear after months of rehabilitation for Luke and Ryan.
We purchased land in July, the 7th month of 2020, and we are going home to build a beautiful accessible ranch for our family with a big sensory room for Luke and the kids; a home with a bike path straight to the Lake – Lake Michigan! – right outside our front door; a bike path that will bring immense enjoyment with Luke’s new accessible bike trailer; a path that leads to a playground less than a mile away. It’s time to stop putting our faith in the government for resources and time to put our faith in those who know and love us well. It’s time to rejoin the feast of community.
Yes, this decision was made largely with Luke in mind as Tennessee (and the South overall) lacks in resources as children like him age, and Michigan offers more possibilities including year round school until he’s 26 years old. That’s huge! Summers without any structure or anyone who will help with him have becoming overwhelmingly exhausting. We’ve also had the opportunity to tour a residential facility we would be very open to considering in the future; a beautiful place brimming with loving, Godly people who serve the least of these with their whole hearts. We are preparing for a future where our children have families of their own, and we want to have a plan in place to provide the time and energy needed for all our kid’s lives. This has been a heart wrenching decision, but we feel an immense peace that it is time. Our years in Tennessee were needed to bring our newly blended family together, a beautiful time away from distractions that melded us together which you will get to read about in my book Blended with Grit and Grace releasing this June, but now it’s time to say goodbye. It’s time to go home.
And as always, we continue to surrender – not really knowing what the future has in store but having faith that He will provide. When the cloud moves, we move. Moment by moment and step by step – walking in obedience into what he has next for the Ronne family in this 43rd year of life (4+3 = 7) and Luke’s 16th year (1+6=7). I surrender, and I believe that the next 7 years are going to be a time of rest and victory.
And, of course, I’ll document our progress which has already had its share of joys and trials as will life until the day I die, I suppose. Ryan and I usually travel to Mexico in January or February, and this year we went to Michigan where we spent the week clearing our property. Mexico, Michigan, pretty similar, right? The tentative plan includes a move this summer and living in a rental property while our house is being built. Crazy? A little, but a good crazy. It feels right. And it’s going to be quite the journey.
Just keep livin.