It has been just over four weeks since we moved, and we’re still stepping over and around big brown boxes. With some of our possessions in the garage, some in a storage unit, and many things still packed up, we all feel a bit disoriented. My middle child has misplaced her tennis shoes. I can’t find our panini maker. And of greatest concern, my youngest one has somehow lost her cherished Brown Bear between our move from the AirBnB to our rental.
It’s silly to be so sad about a worn out stuffed animal, but I think emotions are high around transitions. We’ve kept track of that Brown Bear for NINE years, searching many a night in the back seat of our cars and in dark rooms and under beds and sofas to locate him so everyone could sleep in peace. It’s not that we don’t have dozens of other soft stuffed animals that can be a stand-in for a lovie; it’s that none of them have the same history and significance. They aren’t broken in and beloved like he was.
As I handed her a backup version of her bear, my youngest said with big tears in her eyes: “I miss his stitches. Can I cut a hole in him and you can sew him back up so he’ll be the same as my old one?”
Sometimes we miss the familiar, even if the familiar is dingy, worn out, and stitched up. We are strange creatures of habit and lovers of home.
And speaking of creatures of habit, poor Rosie is exhausting herself (and us!) as she figures out her new routine and finds new squirrels to terrorize. She roams around at night, occasionally looking for socks to eat. And who knows what it means that she sleeps on only half of her bed now?
I’m not sure when we’ll find our footing on the other side of this transition. I know it will take time and a kind of effort and energy than has been in short supply these past few weeks. But we’re clinging to a verse in Proverbs that reminds us who’s in charge of this transition and ultimately, of our lives. The verse is Proverbs 16:9: “We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.” And so we wait and trust that the Lord will establish those next steps.
I thought I might take this summer off from writing to give myself time to process this change, unpack, and get things in order. But I’m realizing that the most essential thing to keep “in order” is not my house or my kitchen or my closets—but my heart. And that’s the first thing to get out of whack when I neglect this outlet. In a strange way, writing is an act of faith for me. And I like to abandon it quickly when I feel stressed or weary.
So I’m back with little to say but much to be grateful for even in this in-between time. We certainly aren’t settled, and we miss having a sense of home. But I love how John 15:4 reads in The Message: “Live in me. Make your home in me just as I do in you.” {emphasis mine}
In his song “Here in America,” the late Rich Mullins sings: “But I am home anywhere if You are where I am.”
And, of course, we know He is.
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