Y’all, I’ve got news. Big news. The real, crazy, life altering, “I can’t believe we’re doing this” kind.
Casmir and I have a lot of dreams. Some we have separately (this blog one of mine). Lots we share (make some babies being one of those since I obviously can’t do it alone… sorry, bad joke). But there’s one that we’ve shared together since the beginning.
About a month after he asked and I said yes, we started looking for homes. We really wanted to find a place to make our own, so we searched. And searched. Forever. Seriously, 6 months of real estate shopping. Six. Straight. Months. Of Sundays filled with open houses. And crazy late nights of contracts. We offered on 10 houses. Yes, ten. Ten doors slammed in our faces until we finally got one. And of course, it was the one I liked the least. Oh gosh, she was so ugly, but she was an option and I was just so done with the process (don’t forget I was planning our wedding amongst all this too). So we signed the papers and we started knocking down walls that same day. We spent the next 3 months until we got married making her beautiful, and gosh, beautiful she is. She’s a dream. (Well, the dream we could afford on the newlywed, we-have-no-money budget, but such a dream.) We put literal blood, sweat and tears into her and there are still moments where my eyes well up when I stand in our kitchen and look at everything we did. Together.
All that to say that even before we were married, we’ve loved homes. He loves finding the deals, and I love making them pretty. We love transforming ugly places and making them into spaces where life can happen. We love different pieces of the process, but we love it together. So for years now, we’ve dreamed of getting to do that for other people.
And we’ve been chasing that dream, too. In the few hours we have in weekday evenings (hence why I wake up at 4:30am) and the 2 days a week we’re not at work, we’ve been chasing it. Hard. We’ve been giving all of ourselves and more to this dream. Giving it all to get right to the edge of it.
But now it’s time to really jump. Not just stand with our toes dangling over the edge. It’s time to actually leap. So, y’all, after years of daydreaming, months of hustling and so many hours and hours and hours of prayer, I’m quitting my job.
Honestly, even just hitting those letters on my keyboard brings up all the feels. First of all, because I can’t think of a single time I’ve quit anything in my life. Besides that time I chose running over soccer in 7th grade. Or the times I quit on the guys that were obviously all wrong for me. I don’t quit things. And I sure as hell don’t like things that pull me away from the perfect little grip of control I like to have over my life. But I do dream. And I do believe that the Lord made us for different things in different seasons. And this one, for so many different reasons, just feels like He’s calling me to leave.
The crazy thing about all of this, though, is that as much as it seems like a big, massive, scary leap, it actually just feels like a small step. A small, guided, gentle step of faith. Because y’all, the peace. I’m filled with so much peace. I know with every bit of my heart that this is where the Lord wants me, we know together that this is where He is calling us, and that is all I’ll ever need to know. Because as I prayed over and over and over again the morning I told my boss of my plans:
“I don’t know all that You have planned, but I know that You are good. And I know a life that’s comfortable is nothing in the shadow of a life that’s in Your will.”
If you’re asking how we’re doing it, there are still so many unknowns. Sooooo many things we can’t see. So many sacrifices we’ll have to make and sooo many big scary risks we’ll be putting on the table. (Starting a business? Um, yeah, definitely not an expert at that.) So believe me, the peace is not because I know exactly how we’re going to accomplish these things we’re just crazy enough to think we can do. But that’s where the trust comes in. I have assurance in knowing not that this will all work out, but that the Lord will provide. Because He does, y’all. He made us for a purpose, and He delights in us when we live in it. I don’t know if renovating homes is my life-long purpose, but I know that right now, in this moment and for this season, it’s my mission.
And my goodness, I can’t even put into words how good it feels to know that. And to trust it. To live in a space where talent and passion meet purpose, it’s quite literally putting life back in my body. It’s awakening my bones and it’s stirring my heart with excitement to see all that the Lord can do in it.
But even with all the peace in the world and allll the excitement my heart is bursting with, that doesn’t mean there aren’t so many bitters in the bittersweet. I’m leaving a place I’ve spent 7 years at. I’m stepping away from a family that I’ve shared all my biggest moments with. I’m leaving an office I became a professional in.
So to TCU, thank you. Thank you for believing in me. As a 16 year old itching to learn how to change the world. As an 18 year old itching to see the world. As a 19 year old wanting to change my major. As a 21 year old wanting to stay. And now as a 24 year old ready to leave.
You gave me a lot. You taught me people are good. Well, you taught me that they’re broken but that they’re worth believing in. You taught me a deep-rooted belief and a few champions for it can do nothing short of magic. You taught me failure is a part of life no matter how hard I avoid it. (And avoid it I do.) And that successful people fail, and often hard, but they do it gracefully. And with heart.
You taught me about Jesus. That brokenness is real but so is redemption. That my limits exist (no matter how hard I try to deny them) but His do not.
And you brought me my people. My friends. My sisters. My mentors. My husband. My forever people. People that have loved me in new ways and on new levels. People that have shaped me and made me and grown me. People that have walked alongside me on my mission, that have championed me through me valleys and cheered me on at my peaks.
Thank you for that. And thank you for being a safe place to land. Convincing students you’re the best school ever was easy. Because you are. (And thank God, because I’m a horrendous liar.) You invested 4 years in me so that I’d be equipped to chase my dreams. And then I spent 3 years helping students find the same. And my goodness, that job was sweet. So, so sweet. These past 7 years of learning from you and serving you and cheering for you have been nothing short of a dream. All I ever could have hoped for in my college experience and my first job. All that and then some. So to TCU, thank you. I’m a frog forever. Now I’m just one that’s finally trained up her frog legs to leap far enough to go.
It’s time. New, crazy, scary things await. But the Masons are ready. Or as ready as we’ll ever be. * leaps with a little “I can’t believe I’m doing this but I’m so flipping pumped” scream *
Here’s to adventures and fear and risk and love. A life of love. xx, molls