I hate moving. I get really emotional about everything. I get restless and can’t think about anything but nesting. I worry we’ll have the worst neighbors and that we might have made a very bad decision. I freak out about how much stuff we have and want to throw everything away. I start to wonder if Andy would notice any missing books. I stop cleaning everything except the bathroom. I try to convince Andy we could afford a dog.
I’m not a pro-mover. This is my third move. I dream about settling down in a house with Andy for the next twenty years. I dream about actually picking out a place because we like it, not because we had to take the first thing available. But my perfect dream probably does not have as many memories and funny times as our life: cleaning every day to try to get rid of smoke smells, asking the 80-year old neighbor if he could turn down his hip hop music, waking Andy up in the middle of the night to kill bugs, having your apartment at eye level with all the students that walk by and just wanting some sort of privacy, walking out your door and getting nauseous from all the smells, spending three weeks trying to find the laundry room. Andy, it’s been a good three years and I promise I didn’t get rid of any books and I promise I will be okay just like the other times because I love you.
So far, this summer has not gone at all like I hoped. With trying to move, Andy ending up taking a summer class, being sick, volunteering for things I didn’t plan on, and Andy working more and during the times of summer things like berry picking and farmer’s marketing it really feels like “the summer we’re trying to survive.” But I’m learning that the Lord takes care of us, not me. I’m seeing the Lord provide for our unexpected moving costs. I’m seeing my prayer “help me to be a friend” answered in ways I didn’t expect. I’m learning to just enjoy life. I’m learning life kind of is having all your plans messed up and your house in chaos. I told Andy I realized that I let having a messy apartment dictate my mood and how I feel and think, when I should only find my peace in God, not in a clean apartment and organized life. (Although I do think there is something to say for having order, but I should not let that be my definition of peace and a good mood.) So, I’m learning to enjoy now and not be sad that we might only get four things checked off our summer fun list. I do hope next summer is slower. I do hope we do not move again next summer unless that’s a move with a house, dog, and baby, but I think that dream is still a little farther off than I hope.