Some people like to move. I don’t understand these people. I once got to know the mom of my daughter’s friend in high school. She actually expressed her frustration in living in the same town longer than usual. Apparently two years was the length of their typical stint.
I felt like I was speaking with an alien. Or maybe I was the alien. We spoke different languages. I have to admit I have such admiration and fascination with the “movers”. Clearly I have something to learn from them. As for me, I had trouble changing the front door color the first time because someone thought it should always be blue. What a big step for me to take a risk and paint it red.
Warning…. BIG FEELINGS AHEAD!
Why would anyone want to leave their HOME? It’s my home—my porch, my windows that look out to the azaleas, the forsythia, the dogwood. Why would I want to leave? I can tell who’s walking up the stairs by the sound of footsteps and a certain creak of the floor. I love my porch swing— I love watching birds at the feeder. I LOVE my kitchen, especially since we finally replaced the pink laminate, and built the amazing green cabinet that I designed.
I love to hear family and friends come through the front door—especially the ones who just walk in. I love that every room groans with memories.
I can still visualize the tea party Katherine had when she was five. The little girls were so cute in their frilly dresses and hats.
The wonderful times around the big dining room table when when talked and laughed for hours. Our birthday dinners, Christmas parties, Easter celebrations, Sunday dinners–gathering around the table is the very best! The many showers and parties we’ve hosted to celebrate new marriages and new babies.The Bible studies and small groups that lasted for years!
I recall the soccer games in our huge backyard– the time we hired our neighbors to be officials for John’s birthday party. They were pre-teens, but looked liked real referees to eight year old boys.
The Christmas stockings were hidden every year with miles of string attached. Some years they were discovered in the pear tree, an air vent or in the fireplace. Tom’s skills knew no bounds.
We broke ground on our house the very day we brought John home from the hospital. That was in 1988. For months and months I would drive over to the property with our three kids and watch the progress with great excitement. A few years later we brought our baby daughter Katherine to the only place she’s called home.
Today I’m struggling. I wish I weren’t such a mush when it comes to things like houses and memories. But the truth is I am. I absolutely hate the idea of moving away from this house and living in another city. But sometimes, as we journey through life, things happen unexpectedly and we are led on a course that is different from what we anticipated.
Right now it seems that my husband’s job change may require a geographical relocation in the not so distant future. So I’m processing, grieving and trying to focus on today.
I’ve repeatedly taken comfort in the words of Oswald Chambers (My Utmost; March 19).
“Faith never knows where it is being led, but it loves and knows the One Who is leading.”
That One leading is the One who has always been faithful to me. So now I wait in expectation, and trust as much as I am able, knowing that all we be well.
“Many are the plans of a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” Proverbs 19:20