Moving on After Moving

I’ve shared before about the very realization that a BFF of a Minister’s Wife is often an oxymoron and today I wanna talk on just one of the facet that cause that truth.

Moving.

Yeah, we all say confidently, “I told God I would go where ever He sends me.” as if that makes being a nomad any easier. We’ll say, “We plan to settle in like we are here to retire.” to reassure our new congregation but the fear still lurks.

Don’t get me wrong, we wholeheartedly want to invest in every community we are apart of with full gusto and passion as if it is THE place our family will call home and we really do want to be in the center of God’s will even when it means packing our belongings time and time again…but it wears on a girl.

The moving causes me to fear opening my heart. I tread lightly in relationships, worried to get too deep only to be blown away with the wind. Out of sight out of mind isn’t a mean concept, it’s just reality. Long-distance relationships aren’t just hard for high-school dating couples going their separate ways to college. Distance is a natural barrier that makes everything harder.

We just celebrated our 1 year anniversary at the valley here in Vilonia but we haven’t even lived in our home for a year {until July} and it’s happened. God allowed us to have that ideal neighbor relationship. The one where you stock one another out the window wondering if it’s too soon to invite them over for another playdate, dinner, or nap-time chat in the yard. Blessed isn’t the half of what we’ve experienced.

But apparently, I’m not the only one God can choose to move. Yesterday we moped around knowing we would be hugging our friends goodbye as they headed off to another state to start their new adventure. This week we’ve tried spending every last ounce of time with one another wish it could be bottled and saved for later.

Watching the moving truck pull away from their house was an odd site for us. We weren’t in a car following behind it. We were the ones inside wondering how life would change in our neighborhood and if they would remember us rather than being the terrified ones pulling out of the drive away.

I held my daughter as she faught back painful sobs. With nothing else to offer, I joining her and trying to voice the fervent prayer that echos in my heart:

Jesus, I trust you. I really do. You have always been and will always be nothing but good.

You are healer. Please lessen this hurt. Remind us that You know best. Comfort us with the knowledge that you will work this into some sort of good in our life because it really sucks right now.

You are comfort. Settle my heart ache that longs for the comfort we had with such sweet friends within walking distance. Don’t let me doubt Your intentions of good in my life by wondering who I will trade hugs, baby sitting, and Sonic happy hour drinks with on the hard days. Fill any void I have.

You are steadfast and perfectly timed. Bring a new family quickly. Not to replace but to remind us why we are here. Give us someone new to love. Give us someone new to do life with. Don’t let our hearts and that house sit empty long.

You are teacher. Having been the one doing most of the moving into the unknown, I beg that You bring them a church family to serve alongside, neighbors to love on them and other to show love, and bond their family like they’ve never thought possible. Let visits not be a thing we chatted about to comfort ourselves and let them not be too sparse.

-let all this be so-

I know these evil allergies my sinuses are fighting means the beauty is coming with the changing season! I know everything in life has its season, even if I honestly just prefer some seasons over others. I will eagerly await, with allergy meds in hand ready to fight through these hard times, knowing this new season of our life is coming and with it, beauty.