Sunday, September 03, 2006

Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?

It's 1:31 am on the day that I am leaving and I'm up finishing the laundry so I can take clean clothes to my MIL's house. Feelin' kinda ponderful (yes, that's what I meant to type) so I thought I'd share.

I've had only a few big moves in my life. My first memory is moving to my big house the week before my 3rd birthday. Big excitement and I must have talked a blue streak that day. A couple of house changes within the same town before the next big move - to the dorm at ORU. It was all excitement because I was about to take the world by storm. Only a little sadness to leave friends because I knew I'd be back to visit. Often. The song that I felt was written for me was "I'm Gonna Fly" by Amy Grant. College would be the place where people would finally "get" me. And they did. I felt such a freedom there to be all of me, not just the parts that were acceptible to the particular group or guy I was with. It was o.k. to be smart and I could show that and still date - my favorite pasttime.

The next move was when I got married a couple of years later (comin' up on 23 next month!). Yet again, a happy adventure. My quest for "the man" was over and I could commence with the rest of my goals. I had made friends in Tulsa, home of my first married apartment, and wasn't concerned about leaving home at all. What could go wrong? I had full confidence in the future.

About a year and a half later, we headed back to Texas and it didn't seem like such a big move because I was coming home. We had some adjustment issues like any young couple, but life was still good. I was still ready to conquer the world. During the next 6 mos. during which I had my first child, my husband's fledging faith in the Lord began to unravel. I was too naive to know what was going on and tied up with new baby and postpartum.

The bad move. Work took us off to Oregon for a "temporary" contract job. I. DID. NOT. WANT. TO. GO. At this point I knew things were not all right and the sense of foreboding was tangible. I couldn't get anyone to listen to me. I was trapped. We put our stuff in storage and I packed up my baby and my postpartum and went to the land of no sun, with no transportation of my own. Because this was just "temporary" - 6 weeks at the most - it wasn't necessary to make new friends or a find a church that I would only have to say good-bye to right away. Only, if you'll remember, my motto is everything is better with a buddy or cheese. I don't operate this way. So began the downward spiral of this little family of three into the pits of long term depression. Six weeks turned into, by excruciating slowness of multiple delays, 11 MONTHS! So much damage was done to us, by us, and through us, that it has taken YEARS to recover what was lost in Banana Slugland. We returned to Texas beaten, damaged, wounded. Lost was the innocence of youth and the unquestioning belief that God would lay the path out before us, smooth and clear. We were forever changed by that move and my personal jury is still out on whether the good things that happened through that time (and it took me a long time to even see any good) outweigh the damage.

We have changed homes a few times since then, but have stayed in the same area for the last 19 years. We've done a lot of healing and I can truly say that God is my Redeemer. However, I find myself on the brink of this move - knowing it is what I want and what God wants for me - apprehensive, fearful, confused. Afraid that there lurks in the shadows a Devourer like before. I want to have that 100% confidence that all will be smooth sailing, but I'm not 23 years old and unscarred anymore. My wounds have healed, but the scars remain. There is an aching in times of stress like the aching in my foot (that I broke in college) when it's going to rain. I am excited and sad. Wishing I could just be excited. This total dependence on God messes with my need to control my life. To say that I will never be without an escape again. Having to trust Him when I would rather trust me.

Ultimately I believe this move is about my Redeemer. I believe He wants to redeem my trust in Him and He can only do that through this step of faith that I am taking. I feel like Indiana Jones in the movie where he must step out onto nothingness to save his dad. I am leaving friends and church behind and stepping out into an entirely new season of my life. No net. It's up to the Lord to catch me. I know He is my Redeemer; I'm just a little frightened.

3 comments:

Sarah's In the Midst of It said...

Indiana, it's going to be okay. That's what B. told me after she lost her baby last year--that even if it's not okay (as in, turn out well), it will be okay. Because if even the sparrows matter, you do so much more.

And maybe, just maybe, when you look back on THIS move, you'll be able to say it was the very best one yet. :)

Much love!

Barb said...

Anyone doing what you're doing would be scared. But if you just concentrate on one day at a time everything will fall into place and the day will come when you look back on this time as the huge opportunity it is. I just can't shake the feeling that this is a GOOD thing.

seeking perfect peace said...

Well, the last two posts have made me so sad. I'm going to miss my favorite (and I mean FAVORITE) aunt. What in the world am I going to do without my most impromptu, spontaneous friend around? And, besides just being out and out fun, you have great wisdom to give and I love that I've always been able to talk to you about anything, since I was little. I guess we'll have to start marathon emailing, and you better keep posting on your blog so I'll know what's going on! I hope your trip up was peaceful and not too hot. I'll miss you, dear friend, dear aunt.
Love, Erica