I have not deserted this blog. Honest. But I’ve been a little busy with boxes lately.
The toys are boxed up. The pictures are off the walls and snuggled in bubble-wrap. And if you want a drink of iced tea at my house, you’re drinking it out of a styrofoam cup because all the glasses are wrapped in newspaper and stacked in a box. Much to the delight of the children, I’m boxing up the homeschool books this afternoon. And whatever happens to have found its way into that tiny closet in the dining room is about to be discovered and boxed up.
We’ve made more trips to Goodwill and the dump than we can count. Actually, we’ve probably donated things we didn’t really want to donate because the children tend to add to or take away from the Goodwill piles.
In the midst of all the boxing up or carting off, we have also been saying our goodbyes. We’ve had friends over for playing or chatting, friends over for saving the universe on the Xbox, friends over to help fill boxes. (The great thing about moving is that all your friends totally expect the house to be a wreck, so you don’t have to clean first.) We’ve met friends for coffee and dessert or for lunch. We’ve traveled to see relatives we won’t see for a year, and we’re both celebrating and mourning our last AWANA night and last Sunday in Children’s Church. We’ve had goodbye parties, and we have a couple more to go. Honestly, it’s been difficult for me to drag out all the goodbyes over the course of three weeks. I’d rather do all my crying in one afternoon.
We’re feeling excited to finally be going where we have wanted to be for more than a year. We’re sad to be leaving the only home our children have ever known. We’re very sad to be leaving the friendships we have taken years to build. Some of us are nervous about going to school. Some of us are nervous about finding a new church. Some of us are sad that when we walk around the grocery store in our new town, we won’t know anyone. We are exhausted from all the sorting and boxing. We are exhausted from all the emotional highs and lows. I am exhausted from reassuring and comforting my children, from trying to make this move easier on them.
So . . . that is how I am. But I am also at great peace. I know we are doing what we are supposed to be doing. It is difficult to leave behind so much of what we love. But we are following our Lord’s leading; we are going where we know He has called us. And so it is a privilege to sacrifice, a privilege to leave it all behind and follow Him. We are compelled by His love for us and our love for Him.
As long as I keep my mind fixed on that, I am content and at peace among my boxes.