Moving. Always moving.

Moving. I don't particularly enjoy it. Do you? The packing. The unpacking. The living among stacks of boxes of things you're not sure what to do with (and wonder why you have them at all if you can't figure out where they should go...). The clutter. The chaos. The time it takes to decide where you want to put things. Not feeling at home for awhile. And we've moved three times in two years (this is the third time). And this time, we moved with a baby.  We were fortunate that my parents kept her with them while we made the big push to get things moved in, and here we are finally, at the end of a long day saying goodbye to them as they drove away and left us in our own place. Addie had never lived in a place where they didn't live before. We wondered what this would do to her. We wondered how we would handle having her without the extra hands around. We wondered how being a 25 minute drive away from friends and family would feel, how it would work, how I would deal with being more alone, now.



But in the midst of all the upheaval, I have found new joy in old dusty corners of my heart, the part of my heart that I'd shoved aside, wondering if those dreams would ever become my reality.  They did. They continue to become my reality every day.

I'm learning that there is space to grow and change and learn and be, here. Even though I find myself wondering what our life here will be like when all of the boxes are finally sorted through and the pictures begin to take up residence on our walls, I am also noticing in the midst of very mundane, very ordinary moments that I am stopping to say "Thank you." Thank you to a God who is bigger than my doubts. Thank you to a God whose word is true and trustworthy. Thank you to a God who provides in bigger and better ways than my little mind can wrap itself around. Thank you for the family I get to explore this place with. For the feet that walked into my life and changed it for the better--both sets of them.

I'm still getting used to the sounds and smells of the quiet mornings here. There is a stillness here that we didn't have before. But in the quiet that has accompanied this transition, I'm finding joy--and the joy of new is what I do, after all, like about moving. I'm finding new balance, new purpose, new dreams, new interests, and new reasons to be thankful. (And my, how I am thankful.)

For these reasons, I think I ought to always be moving in one way or the other.