We’ve been preparing to move and have no idea where we’re going, yet. Or exactly when. After months of inner turmoil I’m okay with it for the most part.
As we’ve packed I’ve felt a wee bit (okay, more than that) sad for all the dreams that won’t be realized in this place.
But it isn’t about our dreams.
It’s about being open to love and serve and become more like Jesus.
I can do that anywhere.
While I was growing up my family moved around a bit. Since the very first move I’ve struggled with feeling like the new kid, the outsider who never quite belonged or had enough time to feel settled before she had to move again. Even into adulthood when the moves were my choice that feeling was stirred in the recesses of my heart.
Here it is again.
This time I’m wondering if that’s been the purpose all along. Maybe I’m not supposed to feel settled… Maybe I’ve been looking at it all wrong and there’s a bigger picture I haven’t been seeing. I’m pondering that these days while I enjoy our home for the time we have left. With the daily clutter packed/purged/thrown away it’s nice to have such a clean space, and I’m trying to figure out how to keep it like this wherever we land next.