Digging Deep

So much has happened this week...I feel like I lived 2 lives and I'm not sure I was present in either one.

But first, I received the best text message ever yesterday from my sister Jamie who said that Jayden, her 6 year old son, gave his life to Jesus! You can read about their conversation here

Other big news is that I was introduced to Bubble Tea by my brother-in-law Jon this week and now I'm hooked...so yummy and refreshing.

Last night I slept 11 hours...which was good because I'm spent physically and emotionally. Maybe now I can start processing all that is happening...

On Thursday I finished my work at Catholic Charities, an experience I don't think I've felt the complete weight of yet. Some ladies at work took me to lunch and then had a party for me with all my co-workers. Doris, in accounting, gave me a down-coat to take to Romania! Such an amazing gift...and Bridget and Sue gave me books about Romania. They were so good to me. Our directors said such kind words to me...

I also finished selling furniture, sold my books (I told the guy who picked them up that I felt like I was selling my friends...of course there were books I'd put in the tub, and then take out, not having the heart to part with. Some of my most favorite books I gave to good friends, so they could get to know each other), packed up my house and then had a weekend of yard sales (thanks Suzanne!) in order to sell everything. Basically all my worldly possessions are down to a few tubs in my sister's attic full of photo albums and my grandma's painted china...the things I couldn't part with. I'm so thankful for Jon and Elisabeth's help (bro and sis). It was super hot this week, and my brother-in-law was down a man at his station, so he had to work extra hard at work, and then help me in the evenings. Such a good guy...and little Ava also pitched in and lent a hand. I have a great family.

It wasn't as emotional a week as I thought it might be. At times I'd start to choke up, like when I was showing my sister a bowl our grandma gave to me because she knew I liked the type of etching it had on it, or the perfume her brother brought her over 65 years ago when he rode the rails to California from Michigan. But I think I didn't cry much because I felt like I needed to push through, I couldn't fall apart because there was too much to do.

And now I'm sitting quietly, realizing that the full weight of what I've done has not yet hit me. I won't go home to my apartment again, or cook soup in my pretty dutch oven, or crash on my couch with a movie and a glass of wine. Frames that held pictures of those I love will sit in another home, my IKEA silverware will help nourish another body, my shower curtain will shield someone else's bathroom floors. It all belongs to someone else. It is no longer mine.

And maybe it never was. It certainly held some security for me, some meaning...like an etched bowl my grandma gave me or a housewarming present from my sister. It reflected my style, what I like, what makes me comfortable. But it wasn't me.

I was driving this week, trying to create a bit of space to process, when I recognized that I have to believe that the eternal is more real than this present. I have to believe nothing is more real, no couch, no bed, no picture frame, no dutch oven, is more real than the Kingdom and the King. And that is the place where I am putting all my hope, all my comfort. And I pray, that as I begin to feel the weight of my decisions, that I will begin to reflect that which is eternal.

All that to say, I know I'll be crying soon and probably for a long time. At least I hope I will because this not feeling is certainly even more exhausting than crying.

A couple weeks ago Pastor Rick at Imago Dei (it was an awesome message and you can hear the podcast at the site)spoke on Abraham and how when God called him to go, Abraham didn't know where he was going. But God ripped up his roots and asked Abraham to wrap them around Himself. Just this week I received an email from David Chronic in Romania who said that all that is happening will probably feel surreal until I dig my roots in deep in Romania.

And so, I'm feeling the ripping, the earth coming free, the exposing of little hairs that reach out for water...and I am reaching and wrapping and believing that while I don't know where I am going, I am certain of Him whom I have believed in.