Guilt Free Living

I've been reflecting recently about our life here; my life here. I'm been thinking, almost guiltily about how simple and easy it all seems to be. I've been dwelling on the transition and it not being entirely what I thought it would be. 

I've been happily relishing in the fact of planting roots here. 

Here in a place I never suspected I would be, but more so, never suspected I'd like to be as much as I do. And while it sounds odd that that's something I could "guiltily" admit, it is. Before you say it, no this transition hasn't been a breeze and yes, I know certain times will be harder (like the holidays, don't want to go there). 

I guess I imagined this transition to be nothing but rocky and terrifying, awful and difficult, filled with tears and pain. While it was all of the above beforehand, before June 9th and maybe even during that really scary flight into here, it's not nearly been any of that. Do not mistake my words for pure positivity or some kind of naive security; the tears happened. The pain before during and after this great life transition came. Much of our adjustment period, mine here, brought late night sob-fests, pain, missing the North and the people whom I love there already and all of the comfort the latter brought. 

But day after day here, God has granted me peace. 

Peace after the storm, calmness and clarity after the transitional anticipation and turmoil. Rest through the changes and adapting to new things, places, people. I've been blessed with an established network of amazing people that my husband has previously created. I've found a job that I'm looking forward to, fur babies to love on and more importantly a friend and comfort in a husband. 

I'm constantly reminded of all the love that is found in our little home, the promises in our new home and simple almost-silly things like tripping over Lilly's toys that are strewn about on the floor. 

I find rest in late nights of solitude, even if it means that the solitude is the result of an absent, hard-working husband. I am endlessly grateful for his diligence, selflessness and hard-working spirit. I've learned to take these nights and be just as selfish as I need to be so that I can, in turn, gain strength to be selfless. 

I smile at all the piece of our lives, as trivial and materialistic as some are, the home we've built both metaphorically and all the important physical aspects we're slowly acquiring. They hold meaning to me. That key rack we got our first week here. As silly and stupid as some may be, they're all parts of our story and our memories. They're a way for me to timestamp our moments here, however permanent or impermanent our time is here. 

The placemats and other things and pieces that have travelled with me through college and then across the country; the items that have stood with me through all the change and shifting. 

The new things, 

like our silly kitchen refrigerator white board and the words, "I will always appreciate you" carefully written after a silly spat that I refuse to erase. 

The wedding pictures that now flood our little home. The ones hung, in frames, next to the tv or on my nightstand.  

I take such joy in all the smiling faces and clouded memories of that day they hold - the celebration and contentment after over four years of trials and pain and reunions and love. 

And the little reminders of everything in between. 

The old and new, the happy and scary, the tears and the joy. 

I want to be grateful for each moment. 

I want to remember everything. 

And I want to let myself enjoy every part of it.

Because no matter how much I'm missing everything in a different part of the country, I'm so blessed and I find such comfort in what's here and now. I've blessed by new friends and new places, by learning the backroads and tiny victories of not having to use the gps in doing so. In knowing the grocery store layout I go to every week, or as stupid as it sounds, having a grocery store that I go to every week. In having friends to call and text and hang out with, in having the familiarity and comfort that a location and places can eventually bring when you let them. 

 And I'm grateful for a patient and loving husband, 

who is ceaselessly my greatest friend and strongest confidant. 

And for a loving Jesus, 

who restores souls and instills unexpected courage when you need it the most.