There Are No Words for This

I was speeding down the mountain in a panic/thrill. My feet couldn't make their mind up to stay on the racing snow or the sled and so they flip flopped from both. I squealed, then laughed. Jordan was giggling ahead of me, then behind me, then ahead again. AHH! Coming through! My friend Kate yelled, trying to catch up with her husband. The Alps that surrounded us were completely obscured by the snow pounding down around us. The path...what path? Where did the path go? Feet go down again to slow my racing heart. Sledging in the Alps.
There are no words for this. 

We borrowed our hosts bikes near Amsterdam to bike through the countryside of Holland. Passing field after field of tulips. I felt like Corrie Ten boom the whole time, rescuing a baby in the basket. Then hearing my name called and rushing into the arms of a good friend after 7 years apart, squealing and jumping, hugging and talking at the same time. Going to the beach with old and new friends to watch the cold waves and run through the sand. Learning about Dutch culture and being awed by its beauty.
There are no words for this. 

We cooked and baked and laughed till our sides hurt. We hugged the boys goodbye and welcomed them back home with food. 24 teenagers. Loud music. Soccer. Long talks. Teasing. Water fight. Deep breaths for a long day. Driving down winding roads to drop off and pick up.
There are no words for this. 

Then one day there was a positive sign on a pregnancy test that changed everything. I started dancing around with my hand on my stomach to songs I couldn't wait to teach. And our time on the Alps and with the boys and old friends came to a close as we dreamt of a new life. New plans. And all of a sudden life stopped and it didn't make sense. It doesn't make sense. Long days turned into long nights and loneliness and grief were companions.
There are no words for this. 

Our year in Europe was a romance. And there are no words to do any of it justice. God brought us there and God brought us home. He gave, and He took. Blessed be his name. I can say that now. Because right now, in Alberta, where it is snowing in early September, I am still being pursued by Jesus. This Jesus who picked me up from a nightmare and enfolded me in His arms of joy and grace. He is no stranger to suffering. And as I sit in our new apartment, thinking over our year, all I see is Him.
We try to put feelings and experiences into words, but how can you describe grace? How can you describe pain? How can you describe jumping into the future with no plans, no ideas, just a crazy belief that God is good? I have no words, but I try to explain all the same.

 Skyline Hill by Jenny and Tyler

Dawn breaks over Skyline Hill
Beauty and grace, all is still
Canvassing this sight, I'm sure
There are no words for this

Your breath is heavy on my skin
I close my eyes, breathe out and in
Spinning 'round, a steady rhythm
There are no words for this

And I don't know what to say, to properly convey
The lines of this earth, the lines of your face
I am small and unsure, but more and more I learn
There are no words for this

Tears roll gently down my face
I lick my lips for the salty taste
Reveling in deep, deep grace
There are no words for this

And I don't know what to say, to properly convey
The lines of this earth, the lines of your face
I am small and unsure, but more and more I learn
There are no words; there are no words

There are no words for this