Enjoy it, because it's happening.

I recently came across this phrase and I could not think of a more obvious, simple and straight-forward phrase to define this current season of my life. It's funny, no matter how many breakdowns I have, no matter how much I scream or cry or put off doing things that hurt, worry about the inevitable goodbyes and all the negative, terrifying or sad parts that come with this, I am continuously overwhelmed with all the things to enjoy. And like the seasons change, life is made new and the trees bloom, it's happening. Like a freight train or a steady rhythm, I cannot stop or control it. 

As hard as it is, I am grasping at strands to try to enjoy this phase, to immerse myself in the scary uncertainty and enjoy the process; the processing. While it's a little overwhelming to try to savor it all at once, I close my eyes to take it in, to remember it, to lock it away for another faraway time when I know I'll miss it; this, those, them. 

I went home for the long Easter weekend. That was difficult. I started packing and sorting and placing into piles and getting rid of. That was even more difficult. There is something so emotionally unsettling about seeing your material possessions so scattered around. An accurate representation of the chaos; emotional, mental. Everything else. Such is this phase of my life and such is an accurate representation of my processing; categorizing, giving away, choosing what to save, what to let go of. 

Very strange, indeed.

The thought of having to say goodbye to this, my thirteenth birthday present makes my heart break a little bit. My animals are so important to me, and as odd as it sounds, my emotional stability that I know saying goodbye to them will be just as bad as saying goodbye to the people. Not to say that I will never see either again, but it's of course, just not the same. 

On another note, this guy, and a friend and I were at one of our favorite local coffee shops while I was home. We were sitting outside enjoying the nice weather and the Saturday afternoon when a lady and her son (about seven or eight) approached us. The three of us, being very approachable with a fur-thing, I quickly learnt. She didn't directly approach us at first and was having a harmless spat with her son, openly criticizing her son for this and that. She mentioned "all the money she spends on him" and how he "sucks all the energy out of her" point blank and immediately I bristled at her tone towards him. It wasn't mean, but criticizing and harsh. A tone that as a teacher, I hate hearing parents use directly in front of their children. 

She proceeded to approach us and ask questions about Austin, while her son shoved his face in my dog's face. Again, (and although my dog would never bite and is incredibly friendly) something I cannot stand watching parents allow. She struck up a more-than-polite-stranger talk conversation and quickly noticed the ring on my left hand as I was sitting holding my coffee. She had ventured into "I've been married twice" and "be careful when you have kids someday, you never know what you're going to get,"...way too personal territory and I sat wishing she would just leave already. Her attitude was boisterous and abrupt and amidst the conversation demanded, "how old are you?" I responded that I was twenty-two and I noticed her face twitch. She trudged on with;

"Well, what do you think marriage is?"  

And I quickly recognized where the conversation was going. 

I've heard it before, being engaged for nearly a year and a half now. People, mostly strangers are often surprised at my choices and that I'm "so young." (She was surprised that we've maintained a nearly four and a half year long distance relationship though). So point to me, I quess? Her question came out of nowhere and I was completely taken aback. I must have stared at her, shocked, for about thirty seconds wishing I could crawl under a rock or that she would just go away while she chided, 

"Come on, I want to hear your answer." 

I told her I thought marriage was 'unpredictable.' 

She must have deemed by answer acceptable because she nodded and affirmed it with a, "yes, it's that." 

Her and her son eventually (and thankfully) left, but not before I was able to slip in, (after regaining my composure), 

"We're excited to see where God and life takes us. 

We know it's not going to be perfect." 

Quote from Stephen Chbosky, "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" - (Image source unknown)

Enjoy this season. Whichever one you're in. 

Because it is happening. You are living in it.  

Consistently inconsistent.

The only part of this transitioning period is that it is terribly "consistently inconsistent." I guess what I mean is that, I never realized I could feel this many mixed emotions within seconds of each other. At one point I want to dance around I am so excited for my new life to start, and at the other I am nearly a puddle over how chaotic and terrifying and uncertain it all is.

These days I am clinging with all my might to God's provision and hope. I know that at the end of all of this will be an amazing new beginning. I know that as hard as every single goodbye will be and as difficult as letting go will feel and as much as leaving behind things and people, even animals, I will get to experience new things and new people and new situations. Not to replace the old, but to give a fresh start in a new place. I am excited for that.

From Where I Stand: anxious, overstressed, overtired, but hopeful

“For my God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from Him. He is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us. Selah.” Psalm 62:5-8

"Humbly let go. Let go of trying to do, let go of trying to control, let go of my own way, let go of my own fears. Let God blow his wind, His trials, oxygen for joy’s fire. Leave the hand open and be. Be at peace. Bend the knee and be small and let God give what God chooses to give because He only gives love an whisper a surprised thanks. This is the fuel for joy’s flame. Fullness of joy is discovered only in the emptying of will. And I can be empty. I can empty because counting His grace has awakened me to how He cherishes me, holds me, passionately values me. I can empty because I am full of His love. I can trust." - Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts.

There is nothing else I can do but know and trust that God will provide in His timing, in His gentle love, amidst these crazy circumstances…I cannot control this phase of my life. As much as I desperately want to, try to, beg to, wish to; I can't. I have to and am forced to do just the opposite. I have to let go. I have to trust. I have to not wish my own way upon circumstances that I don't know about, how they'll end up, what will happen. And I have to be okay with that. I have to let my soul rest in the unknown, in trusting Him.

Even when eating raw cookie dough and having mini breakdowns in the kitchen 

of my apartment late at night, in the darkness feels like a way more tangible option.

Jehovah-jireh, God our Provider.

Transitioning || Continued.

I have cried my way through much of the bumps in this transition. When we thought we would be relocated two months before the wedding to a different state, when we thought moving wouldn’t work out, when we thought Kevin’s job would change drastically and would maybe impact our plans to move, throughout all the times dealing with this guy and what to do, every stupid and insignificant wedding detail that fell apart or feels like everything is going to fall apart that day, processing the new physical distance between family and friends, questioning my future career choice and certification details, whether I would ever become certified as a teacher and my overwhelming defeatist attitude, financial troubles and stress, where to live, every emotional letting-go of my college years and leaving this chapter, saying goodbye to friends and roommates who’ve seen me at my best and worst, when I realized things were at a standstill with this guy I’ve been a mama to for ten years now, when it hurt the worst that night in my car and sobbing turned into one of those episodes I haven’t felt in so, so long.

Every single moment, God has shown up.

Maybe when I haven’t expected Him to, maybe after I’ve expected Him to. Every single tearfest, He’s quietly and patiently guided and guarded my heart to knowing that He’s in control when I feel completely and utterly powerless, exhausted and weak. When I am beaten down over stupid or heavy world problems, I know that He is patient, and oh man, does He provide.

So it is with that thinking and mentality that I cling to the same phrases, knowing that they are true, knowing His never ending promises and history. I cling to that in hopes to believe it again in the midst of things crashing down, yet again. In the middle of fears and doubts, in the middle of losing control and running out of time. In the middle of letting go and trusting. In the midst of unknown futures. I am scared. And that’s okay. Scared that the day will come and I’ll have to say goodbye. Scared of who and if someone will finally take this lug. Scared that time will in fact run out and I’ll feel like an irresponsible failure. 

"For the word of the LORD is right and true; he is faithful in all he does. The LORD loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of his unfailing love.” Psalm 33:4-5