The tears came with the boxes

The tears have finally come.

I put all thoughts of moving away on the back burner toward the end of my pregnancy.  I felt like I had too much surrounding me that needed my heart and there was simply no space left to give to the thoughts of leaving home.  With Todd's absence, caring for the heart of my three year old, taking care of my body, and trying to get the rest I was told I needed, I felt completely occupied in the feeling department.

But today as I have been going through our closet and seeing things starting to go into boxes, I lost it.  Tears found me and suddenly I feel overwhelmed at all that I am losing and leaving. 

In this particular moment, it feels hard to remember that we wanted this.  That we prayed for this kind of change and hoped that God would lead us into an adventure like this someday.  I think I've always known deep down in my heart that we would end up in North Dakota.  Because even though it's never been my dream, it's been my husband's dream and I so wanted all of this for him.  The new job and occupation that he could be proud of that could provide for our family.  And in a place far from here where he feels most at home - where snow and mild summers and geese hunting abound.  I think I've always known that God would stretch us like this - and maybe more specifically, stretch me.

 

Especially in the last few months, I've been in this place of complete and utter dependence on God for just about everything.  And moving away and being without my community and my church and my family - talk about a whole new place of needing and depending on God.

 

While Jake has taken his naps today I've mostly worked on cleaning out our closet.  Purging and organizing and decluttering so that it looks open and spacious and appealing to a potential buyer.  I'd like to think that all of my HGTV watching has paid off and I'm hoping the realtor we meet with tomorrow will be impressed with my staging skills.  This project is just about done and our closet can definitely breathe again.

But there is much, much more to do still.  Obviously.

 

My heart feels a bit like this.  Cluttered, full and chaotic.  Memories made and memories that won't be made, faces of people I will miss and that I don't want to say goodbye to, and the unending lists of things to do come to my heart and mind as I've been working. 

 

I feel lost somewhere between busyness and grief.  And I have a feeling it might look like that for awhile.