Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Change is for Wet Babies

Once I lived here...and I loved it.


Then I lived here--we lived here.
And we loved it.
Well, not the weather.


And then we lived here.
And we loved it.
And, for the first time, we were sad to leave a place.


Now we live here.
And we like it. Well enough.
But now, change.
Unplanned change.
Unwanted change.
Uncertain change.

And again, we don't want to leave. Yet.




For a person that doesn't crave adventure, who resists change, who sometimes has this sneaking suspicion that life could be a lot more exciting, but then cuddles up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, her family, and a movie...I've been so surprised at how much I've loved living overseas. Part of the realization is that I could have everything I just mentioned in another country. I've had wonderful, hilarious, irritating, unforgettable, dangerous experiences--and I've had the family things I love as well.


The changes that I've experienced have been planned. I got to decide. I got to choose. I like a plan and I like to stick to that plan. And a lot of the time I actually can be flexible, but not about my larger life. I don't need someone or something mucking up my decisions. And that does include God, because, you know, HE might have other ideas...frightening, uncertain, possibly difficult ideas.


So realizing that we are likely going to have to move at a decidedly incovenient time (with an 11th grade son) and the fact that we will be jobless before we are...rejobbed...? is decidedly stressful. So many of my sentences start with, "I want...." or "If only..." when living overseas and life in general should have kicked all of that out of me. When I can recite at least 25 Bible verses by heart about my plans and God's plans. When what I want is really not for me, but for my family, so I'm being altruistic. When I KNOW that we are resilient and we are a strong family, but I STILL want what I want because what I want really isn't such a big deal to anyone else but me.


And yet, the times, they do change. Do I cling to possibilities here and risk disappointment, or fully jump into what lies ahead, doing so without feeling the assurances that faith is supposed to bring? Because I simply can't have the one more year that I want. And I can't see what's going to happen. And I don't like it at all. So I pray for "help." Some vague nebulous assistance for me, and our family, and our situation, for peace, or trust...because it seems to be all that I can do.