We’re less than a month away from our proposed set sail date so I thought I’d give you a lil’ update.
Our house is a hot mess right now. I’ve only just realized that I’m a little, very unsettled and I think it’s because my haven is such a disorganized mess. There are boxes everywhere. Garage sale items shoved in a pile and storage boxes stacked against the wall. I will say this. It has been so therapeutic to go through stuff, enjoy the memory that item holds, then let it go. We’ve been able to have surprising success selling our furniture and old computers and miscellaneous stuff on this app called Offer Up. It’s like a visual Craigs List with a bunch of pictures.
I watched the dining room table and chairs that I grew up eating on go to a very sweet family. Funny how you can get attached to stuff. I remember many fun conversations around that table, amazing food and lots of laughter. One night at dinner, I finally opened up about getting into a fight at school. Surprise, surprise, I was a fighter… And with boys, no less. There was this new guy at our school who talked big and loved to poke at me. One day I stood up to him and he was waiting for it. I yelled and he yelled louder. He pulled one of those “Your Mama” jokes and that was it. I hit him hard with my cornet case and hightailed it home. Looking back, this is the most hilarious story to me, but at the time I was scared to see him again at school and a little ashamed of my hot temper. So many nights previously my family talked well pass dinner and all the while, my parents were creating this protective shell of safety and honesty. I opened up and Daddie got pissed. He got up immediately, we jumped into the car and went straight over to his house. Our parents talked it out as the guy sat in a corner with a bruised hand. I had to apologize for my bit and he apologized for his. After that night, we were great friends, go figure.
I let that table go, but I’ll hold on to the memory of my Daddie fighting along side me.
I love boxes. I don’t know why, but I always have. There all over the dang house! Boxes with little boxes inside. Boxes from family members on birthdays. Boxes from my Dad’s travels around the world. Boxes that I’ve picked up along the way. So many boxes. As I’m sorting through which ones to keep and which ones to doom to the garage sale I keep finding little items hidden inside. Hair pieces and cheap jewelry from my banquet days in High School. Old letters from boys I haven’t even thought about in years. Birthday cards from Grandy and Papa. Sewing kits and safety pins. A random hodgepodge of memories and trinkets. Some I let go of, others I put into another box of storage items to open a few years down the road.
We’ve had a fun development with the dream big on the road plan. Turns out we got our lease end date wrong. I know, hilarious. So we’re in negotiations with our landlord to let us out early. We’ve also had some workshops planned in Wyoming in June and now it looks like they might not pan out. I have never been so crazy dependent on the Lord. And that is a not a butterflies and sunshine place to be. I prefer to be in control thank you very much. I feel like everything is pushing and leading up to this celebration of us going on the road and now we’ve had a few roadblocks.
It’s very easy for me to focus on the negative. To see these things as something in the way, or perhaps some great sign that God is shutting down this dream. I then remember that it was God who put these crazy desires on my heart in the first place. Do I believe that He is a loving God that is working everything together for my good? Or do I believe that he’s out to spite me, lead me to a point then drop me cold with disappointment?
I would like to say that I believe the former but day in, day out I’m practically living out the latter. It’s hard to live believing that God is in control. What happens when I suffer disappointments? What happens when I don’t get what I’ve been planning for years? If God is in control of these, is He still good?
I find that moment by moment it is a choice. Of choosing what to believe and what perspective to focus on. Perhaps these are not roadblocks at all and God will provide in some miraculous way. Or maybe these are roadblocks, meant to slow me down and wait for God’s timing. And there’s another choice! Believing that God’s timing is perfect and better than my own.
I stress myself out then talk myself down. So many times in one day. I keep coming back to His word and what attributes God used to describe himself. In Exodus Moses was meeting with God (crazy idea) and God announced himself by saying, “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.”
This is by far the biggest risk that either Andrew and I have ever taken. I can choose to approach this with anxiety and trepidation or I can let go, trust the Lord, trust that He good and enjoy watching Him work. I’ll choose the latter and take a deep breath for goodness sake.