It's about time...

It's all about timing. 'Are we there yet?' 'How much longer?' 'How many more days?' 'When will it be ready?' I saw the picture of me picking strawberries and thought about the fact that it is time for piano recitals, blueberries, swimming pools to open, vacation Bible school, ice-cream dinners, fireworks, riding bikes in bathing suits... you get the idea. The list goes on.

For us some of those things are working out, and some of them are just, well going to have to wait. We seem to be in a state of transition that seems to be dragging on. But we knew it would. We have steeled ourselves for the feelings of uncertainty that come with the temporary & awkward. But you can't do that for kids. Time marches on, and they can see it leaving them behind. They don't politely quell their frustrations, they don't calm their tears from anxiety. They just don't. The kids really are holding up well. We're not keeping them inside 24/7, it's just that some things as a part of the move are just difficult. What move isn't?

I counted one time, before 18, I'd lived in 9 houses. My parents have some war stories about moving. Like the time my parents left our Sunday clothes for worship service in Kentucky, and it was during an ice-storm. We made a great first impression, during a time when people actually expected a preacher to wear a tie & coat. The time we moved from Kentucky to Ohio, and my Dad was clipped by a drunk driver as he had just crossed the bridge into Cincinatti. Our stuff 'we don't want to break' was in the truck. It spewed all over the interstate, not to mention my Dad saw his life pass before his eyes. He was dazed but fine. A crew that seemed to patrol the interstate gathered everything that had been thrown, except for the guns that we're sure were picked up by less noble folks.

But those are the awful stories. I remember meeting some of my life-long friends, even the first Sunday I went to church when we'd moved. I remember thinking the stainglass was quite dramatic at 12th Street, especially for a church of Christ. I remember the farmhouse where I first read 'A Little Princess' and could see my breath in my bedroom from the cold. I remember learning about Kentucky Basketball & hearing 'My Old Kentucky Home' when the National Anthem was played. I know that the cotton fields from childhood grow in hot Memphis sun, because I walked them when I was a kid.

Moves don't come easy. It's loss. It leaves a void-- even if the move is across town. Change comes or continues with a 2nd tsunami like wave depending on whether the first house was a rental or the keeper.

But it's worth it. Change stretches us. Change creates character. It's up to us to use the opportunity to see the good-- the half-full version.

My mind is tired, but I can't be more thankful right now for the future days that are coming. We are all so excited about our new home, temporal as it is-- for this really isn't our final/forever home. We'll see that one on the otherside of Jordan.

Life-Meds #38

#317 A dwelling to move to

#318 Family to host us in the interim

#319 Nannies & Grandpas, Nanas and Poppas to host us, love us & support us.

#320 Bar-b-Q-- Yes, I made it to Memphis

#321 B'Lou, she's known me as long as I've been

#322 Aunt Heidi- rock star extroirdinaire in the kid-play, planning zone

#323 Splash pads

#324 Chicken Watcher's -- Dawn, who survived the first real chicken attack, RIP, no-name-chicken 1 & no-name-chicken 2

#325 Beaky survived

#326 Golden survived

#327 Silver survived

#328 Boy's who don't ask questions about chickens

#329 'Cracker Berry' where we've eaten our veggies

#330 Husband's who will pick-up kids when other is napping

#331 Love that covers a multitude of missed hugs, missed thank-you's.

Join Ann Voskamp ( whose book I'm just about to read with a study group of ladies!!!) on Monday's for Multitude Monday. It will change your life. Counting life's blessings- I call it Lifetime Meds.