Breathing Differently: it's hard because it mattered

Since we shared the news a few days ago about our move to Northern Indiana, I've been breathing different.   For one, I'm relieved our "secret" is out.

Some of my breaths are deep for sanity-sake. I'm taking deep breaths so my brain doesn't explode from all the details that need to be decided...seemingly RIGHT. THIS. MINUTE. Stress is high at our house these days (mainly from me...I'm an 8 on the Enneagram!). Moving across country with 3 small kiddos is not for the faint of heart.

You should see my Evernote. I have note upon note. List upon list. Some with crazy ideas, others with checklists, most with something I will forget if I don't write it somewhere. 

If Asher asks one more time today if we are going to our new house today, I'll need to take a big, deep breath. :)

Some of my breaths are deep because I'm savoring the moments. This morning I had brunch with one of our prayer warriors. She winsomely insisted it was a "see ya in a while", not "goodbye", brunch. As I crossed off another bucket list restaurant from my "to do" list (Old Vine Cafe) and stared into Shevawn's ocean blue eyes, I savored the years we've spent together. And stared down the reality that moments like this are the beginning of "see ya in a while" meetings with people I love.

Sometimes I forget to breathe. In the frantic nature of moving 2,200 miles away from the life we've made here, I forget to pause and take a breath. I fear these next 5 weeks might evaporate in front of our eyes. I'm forgetting at times to savor the drives down certain streets or the ease of texting my West coast friends at 9pm PST. Last night Brian gently -and firmly - reminded me that not every decision needs to be made RIGHT. THIS MINUTE. And that I don't have to line up every duck and start packing boxes TODAY. We have some time. But when I forget to breathe, I forget that's true. The tyranny of the urgent is all over my life.

But I think all of my breaths reveal one primary truth: this move is hard for me.

It's hard because the past 11 years have mattered, more than I probably realize today. It's hard because I feel like I've grown up and grown into the woman - and mother! - I am today because of this place and these people we so love. It's hard because SoCal feels more like me, more like us, and more like home than any other place Brian and I have ever lived. Saying "yes" to a new journey also means saying "no" to our life here. Yes, it's right and it's hard.

Hard isn't bad. (Hard doesn't always mean good either.) But hard for me in this season is because this last season mattered. I won't run from hard, because hard things matter. Our soul can grow in the midst of hard. Hard presses out impurities and complacency and awakens newness. Hardness connects me with others who are also experiencing hard places, and that is very good. Hard pushes me into dependency on Jesus, which I need more than anything.

So, I'll keep breathing as best I can: deeply, savoring the moments. And I'll keep making lists so I can deal with my stress. I'll schedule one more appointment with my therapist. Brian and I will hang out with our gang late this Friday night for one of our "lasts". I'll go to as many of my favorite restaurants as I can. We'll go to the beach as often as possible. I'll sit face-to-face with those I love and soak in their words, their presence, the way their face looks when they smile and laugh at my silliness.

And I'll embrace the hard trusting that it will bring about the transformation I need. 

And I'll hug my friends a little tighter these next 5 weeks. It matters.