It seems my life stays in a constant state of adjustment.
Change happens. There’s no stopping it.
Some changes we create, and some changes just happen and we have no choice but to hold on with a white knuckle grip.
Although I’d like to be in charge of the change in my life, sometimes I prefer the latter. That way I can call it God or Fate or Providence or Destiny and in turn I can take no responsibility for the failures or disappointments that may come from it.
We all experience it, and change is not necessarily a bad thing. It’s perceived as such most of the time, but we must ask ourselves: really do we want to always remain the same person– in the same situations –working the same job –living in the same house– doing the same old things?
Yes!! Yes this girl screams! We do! I do! It’s much safer there and it doesn’t hurt.
But life just doesn’t work that way.
Over the past two years I’ve come face to face and heart to heart with
- the death of my dad (grief, tears, sadness, longing)
- a move to the little trailer house on the prairie (snakes, wind, dust, mice, trains, and yes even Jehovah Witnesses still visit)
- pregnancy and the birth of my child (joy, tears, pain, guilt, fear)
- job change for my husband (worry)
- quitting my job of 12 years to stay home with my baby (dependence, budget, purpose, freedom, happiness)
- learning how to be a mother ( sleeplessness, selflessness, worry, guilt, time management, joy, exhaustion)
And now, now, another biggie is heading my way. Another move. But this time to another town. In another state. I haven’t really talked about it because when I talk about it, that makes it real. I don’t talk about it, not because I’m not excited or I don’t want it to happen, but because I’m afraid. I don’t talk about it because doing my ostrich impersonation is much easier than recognizing that it really is happening.
But change–it is a comin’.
Soon and very soon, we will be packing up our cares and woe, tossed in with a little happiness and excitement and heading to a new destination.
My husband’s dream is to live in the mountains. And I guess we aren’t getting any younger. We’ve sold our little place here in the country, chickens too, and as soon as the buyers little ducklings are in a row, we will know when our last night here will be.
So on this eve of Thanksgiving, with my heart and my head filled with so much worry, trepidation, and fear, that it’s hard to find the excitement, I give thanks to God my Father, the Almighty, Who knows every breath I’ll ever take, Who numbers every hair on my head, Who knows my thoughts before I think them, and my blog posts before I type them, Who did not give me a spirit of fear, but of strength and power; I thank Him for his sovereignty and grace, for His love and providence, for His son and my salvation. I thank Him for my daughter and my husband, my family and my friends, my health and my freedom to just pick up and move whenever and wherever we choose. I thank Him for my past and my future, for my hurts and my sorrows, for my joy and my elation, for opportunities granted and doors closed. For all He has done and for all He is going to do.
Dear friends, please hold me and my family in your prayers as we begin again.