My friend Jenny--Coach Jenny--is moving. I am so very thrilled for her. I have read her blog and watched everything that has happened in her life to get her family to the point of moving. God opened doors and windows, told them to be patient, and boy oh boy, when He said, “Move!” it happened fast. And they have been obedient. Read her story, it’s so encouraging.
My sister is moving. I am happy for her. Probably happier than she is. She does not want to move. But she’s pretty sure this will be a good thing for her children. She and I have talked about the Rich Mullins song that says, “I’d rather fight You for what I don’t really want, than take what You give that I need…” Yeah, we are there.
I’ve watched doors slam closed to keep her from going one direction (the direction she preferred) and open to point her in others. It has been goose-bump evoking sometimes how everything is working out.
Two people who I care about are moving.
And I am not.
A few people who have gotten to know my through my blog know that I really want to move. I’ve been praying and hoping and planning to move for quite a while.
But I am not moving.
Since the moment I stepped into this duplex I have been trying to figure how to move out again.
It’s true. What I wanted to write was, “Moving has been on our hearts for a while.” But that is not true. It sounds so much sweeter, but it just isn’t so. My husband and my sons, especially my sons, have been content with the space. I’m the one who wants to get out of "Dodge".
I’ve bucked and whined and thrown countless tantrums to God about this place. It’s ugly and old and ratty. I don’t like the neighborhood. I don’t like the layout. Not enough bathrooms, not enough storage, too far from this, to close to that. And God has patiently listened to all my complaints and did not budge. He has not moved (or let me move) one inch.
So imagine my surprise when out of my mouth came, “I think we should stay at least another year.”
My husband and I were having a conversation, one of how many I’ve lost count, about the pros and cons of moving. He’s heard my complaining almost as often as God has. He was saying that if it was that important, we could consider moving at the end of summer.
Imagine his surprise when I mentioned staying.
I don’t know who was more shocked, him or me.
Tomorrow I will start at the beginning; not almost five years ago when we moved in here, but almost sixteen years ago when we got married.