Three years, another move

When I started this blog three years ago, I was about to embark on a 1500 mile drive that would take me from a place I'd just started to call home to somewhere completely foreign to me. I remember being scared: what if I hated Oklahoma and never made any friends there? I also remember being excited: I was going to see my husband for the first time in months. Of course, it all worked out in the end; I didn't hate Oklahoma too much, I did eventually make friends, and we added a much-loved puppy to our family.

So now, as a another major life upheaval stares me in the face, it makes me wonder what I've learned over these past three years that I can carry into this next cross-country move.

In some ways, this move is easier to begin with, partly because it puts us closer to family. This is especially important to me at the moment, because with my mom not doing so well, it will be good to be within an easy day's drive of my parents. Ohio also has things like creeks and rivers and trees, all of which are things I no longer take for granted.

But even with all the positive things that have me looking forward to the move, there are things that are always hard. Leaving friends is never easy, and leaving a good church is also hard. We've been incredibly blessed to have an amazing pastor and a wonderful church family here in Oklahoma, and it will be hard to leave. I'll even miss singing psalms, although I'm excited to get back to singing the hymns that I love.

I think one thing I've learned while in Oklahoma is that missing what you leave behind doesn't necessarily mean you're not being appropriately grateful for what you've been given where you are. In fact, I think missing the people and communities you leave behind is healthy, as long as you don't let it keep you from moving forward. Missing someone when you leave is an important part of acknowledging what they mean to you. It means that you let them get close enough to become a part of your life, and moving forward doesn't have to mean leaving them behind. Whether or not you stay in close contact, the impact they've had on your life is permanent, and that doesn't go away.

Another thing I've learned is that there really are good things to be found wherever you are. Even if that place is Oklahoma. The good doesn't always outweigh the bad, and it definitely doesn't negate the bad, but it exists. And on the days when you feel like all you can see is the bad, God is so often gracious enough to give you a gentle reminder of the good. It may be as simple as a beautiful sunset after a terrible day, or a text from a friend, but the good is always there. You just have to choose to see it.

The last big thing that I've learned is not so much of a life lesson as it is a realization about myself - that because I live in the moment, I'm often not trusting God as well as I think I am. Sure, I'm not worrying about things, but that's because I'm not thinking about them yet, not because I'm confident in my God and his plan for me. And while I think that living in the moment is, for the most part, a valid way to live, it does mean that I have to make more of an effort to consciously trust God with things. Otherwise, I end up realizing at the last moment exactly how weak my faith is. And I'm still very much working on this area - I'm nowhere near to having this figured out, but a move like this is a very good way to put it to the test.

So do I think I'm more prepared for this upcoming move? Honestly, yes. Of course, the real test comes in a few months, when all our belongings are in boxes and our old home is in the rear view mirror. I do know this, though: God has sustained us through every major transition thus far, and I have no doubt that he will continue to do so, whether I'm well prepared or not.