...like what I want is right in front of my eyes, and yet, there's always something in the way.
As most of you know, we've recently moved to a new town,
a few hours from our old town,
in the same state.
It'll be coming up on a year in January, and I feel like if I keep saying "recently " it won't seem so strange that I still haven't settled in on the fact that we're here, that this is "THE move", and that it appears that we'll be here for the next several long, indefinite years.
I won't pretend that I have dealt with these recent (there's that word again) changes with any amount of grace. I've sulked, cried, grumbled and futzed my way into a pit. A pit that was pulling me deeper into a despair that felt like a warm blanket that I loved to pull over my head, and that usually resulted in me doing just that in my real marshmallow bed. I've not allowed myself to see past the darkness of this house and realize that it's just a rental and not permanent.
I have a pattern of moving into a house and then, within months, I begin looking for a new one. Now, I'm not meaning to make excuses for myself, but there really is a reason for this! By the time Daryn and I were married
(19 yrs old...way to young...I digress),
I had moved more times than I have fingers and toes and I'll let ya know,
I'm not missing any digits as far as I've checked today.
It's what I know.
It's how it has been.
On top of my childhood history, there is also the fact that we have been through many lay offs, over many years, that have left us with a feeling of instability. Always being on the ready to sell your home can cause you to begin living as if you don't really have one, and that the one you are in is always being prepared for someone else to enjoy. It's kept me from being at peace with my husband and truly letting him know that I appreciate all of his hard work and diligence.
My wonderful husband has been putting in some serious overtime lately. For example, Sunday night he went into work at 11pm to get off work at 6:30pm Monday night. He keeps me speechless by the things that he sacrifices for our family. The lack of sleep that this man endures is only a minute part of what he does to keep this family ticking, and there are just a few things he asks in return.
(I'm likin' the monkeys today)
"Don't drink my Dr. Pepper, leave me a couple cookies for when I get home, and let me watch my woodworking show on Saturday morning without anyone asking me questions." He's pretty low maintenance, and yet he somehow finds the grace to lovingly nurture a high maintenance wife who has much more exasperating expectations on how life should be.
In the last year, a strange new sensation has overtaken the gypsy in me, and she has been replaced with a gardener longing to plant roots, establish a homestead, build a foundation, and become part of a community.
I long for every bit of it even though it's so foreign to me, and all I know of it comes from stories I've heard or seen in the lives of others.
Mr. D is a root guy. Always has been, and I'm pretty sure always will be. I'm ready to be a root gal with him and have some little root children. Okay, so they aren't so little anymore. But, I want to be a bloom where you're planted kind of root gal too.
Oh gracious sakes, this is the hard part.
I don't bloom very easily.
If you came to my house you would see that we've been here almost a year and I don't have curtains properly hung, there is one picture hanging in this house, and I have half a garage full of boxes that haven't been unpacked.
All this to say, I need to give Mr. D a break from my obsession about moving, he's got enough going on.
I have to let God lead us to where he wants us to be in His timing.
You heard it here!!
I'm stepping back from trying to get it all figured out.
God knows the desires of our hearts, but I want His desires to be my desires.
It's the only way I'll find peace, and I have to trust that no matter where He plants us, there will be plenty, there will be joy, and it will be exactly what will bring Him glory.
God Bless Ya'll More and More!!
