Moving wasn't on my radar. Seems that every move takes me by surprise more and more. I should always be ready...I know it is just preparation for when I will permanently move... When the day comes and Jesus moves me into His forever mansion prepared for all His very own.
But all these earthly moves.
The kids are growing fast but yet it still seems slow. They love life. A simple box and packing peanuts make the greatest toys around. The boxes were easy to find this time (God always blesses me with rare and treasured friendships), the uhaul packed well and the unpacking was smoother because I am learning...(and my mom is here).
But these transitions.
These changes.
I think they are not happening and then I realize...
Everything has changed but we are still a family. My babe is learning to farm and work the land with my dad. We are still together. I have three lil miracles tagging right beside me. 6 lil eyes watching. 3 mouths singing to the radio ("and all the people said amen oh oh oh ooh") with me and 6 lil feet full of mud and sticky ash tree sap.
There are still great things unpacking...
Watching my man use strength and determination wile blessing and helping my dad. How quickly I can see my mom in person now. The sweet ways my children all snuggle together when they could all sit on there own piece of furniture. To look outside and see them giggling together. The dandelions my 4 year old picks and hides behind his back and so romantically offers them to me. A simple weed but beauty to the children. Moving always show me the weeds in my heart and mind. And I can't seem to find the beauty in them.
I wanted to think that moving gets easier the more you move...it doesn't.
I still fight the change. The loss of what I had figured out. The schedule, the daily menu, the friends and how I handled lonely long days as a mom. It all starts over. And I struggle to find my new normal.
This move should be full of pure joy and celebration. Most say welcome back. I moved back home... My parents farm just miles from me. Room to breathe and just familiar faces and remembering each personality and their quirks and funny ways. But I am not home yet...to be totally honest, I am scared...forced to be speechless. Waiting on The One and Only to catch me up to what He is up to. I want to go where he sends me. I believe I am physically here but the rest of me is still trying to make it home. Why is change so ridiculously exhausting and difficult? Struggling to wonder what happened to my desire for God to do what He must do to strengthen me. I am finding it harder and harder to desire the fire ... Even when I know He tells me I won't be burned, even though I know he has said he is making a way in the desert. Oh my faith seems weak. My heart is steadfast I say but my mind needs renewing. How do I pick up my cross daily and follow you Jesus ? I want a bigger view. A sneak preview. I just want to know how many more stops...and then I realize God is still on the move and He will not leave me behind in my lacking of understanding, lacking of faith, lacking of relationships...he promises to carry me but he is asking me to leave the boxes behind because I won't need them to get where we are going. Jesus please empty me and pack me with your desires, your will, more of you and less of me. I realize I am just getting in the way. And you want to do the unpacking and packing.
So until the final ultimate eternal move...i am sure there was a reason it took determination and a lil brokenness to get my Jesus chair in my bedroom. I can't live without my Jesus time. And no there isn't power in the chair, but it is significant because I sit down to meet with Jesus. I will hope and pray my Jesus chair can handle all the emotions and questions, joys and pains and fears and fill me to be emptied again. My Jesus I need thee...
