New job, new state, new rooms. We stuffed boxes, filled a truck, drove cross-country, had our car stolen, listened to the baby bark. Then we unstuffed the boxes, learned how to live with one car, watched it snow and felt the cold tingle up our arms and legs, and held the baby so she could sleep.
And now we're here. Down one car and some possessions we probably didn't need anyway, though my heart grieves the original art pieces we'll probably never see again. They're most likely in a dumpster somewhere, valuable only to those who could see with our eyes. But we're up a new life, a new start, a place to begin again, and I value that beyond the car and the TV and the microwave and even all of Dave's tools and his dress clothes.
There's power in beginning again.
I feel like I need to say that one more time, for me and maybe for you, too. There's power in beginning again.
I don't pretend to think that we leave everything behind, that the shadow of this last 14 months won't continue to influence how we think and feel and see and pray (or if we pray - I'm the first to tell you that it's hard to pray when God seems like a wall). But I feel like we can breathe here, like there's some space for us to heal and seek and, if we're blessed with it, to find.
And maybe that's enough - to live in these moments, to hold them close and let them be and just receive for a bit, where we've been struggling with what's been taken.
I think that's what we're to do this year - to live. Just live. To breathe in each day as it comes, each hour and each moment, and then move on to the next. To release everything that last year was and wasn't, and find what we have now. To let the hard, hurt places release and become soft again. To let it be what it was, without trying to make it into something it wasn't.
So here's to life, my friends, and the living of it.
I love that Imperfect Prose is back just as I'm posting again. Serendipitous.
14 comments:
You are Colorado's Gain! I am exited to have you on my side of the world.
If you need a Microwave I have one... it is a start. It is not priceless art, but a gift such as it is...
Can't wait to hear more about the new work, and to take you out to Casa Bonita. Every Deverite must do a Casa Bonita trip at least once in life.
as i read your heart here
i heard an echo.
i read these words yesterday & so i share them today with you:
"“would have and should have” never push forward—they only pull back. And, you can’t go back.
The only place Jesus can meet you is where you are. The only place you can meet Him is in reality. It’s now. Not because that’s the only place He is, it’s just the only place you are... You are here. So is Jesus...
This day is what matters. Today is the only day we have to give to Jesus." ~ Isaac Hunter
& as you have so perfectly prosed:
So here's to life, my friends, and the living of it.
:)
Many of us feel that we have to start over, but you really are just going on from wherever you are--mentally or physically. And each of these do make us grow. Growing IS painful, isn't it?
Gloria
You have such a beautiful heart, my friend, and an exquisite way of expressing it. This post felt like sweet milk. (I meant that as a good thing, as a compliment, just in case that didn't translate!)
I was so sorry to hear about the stolen car, and especially about the stolen original artwork. It's such a special thing to hear you say, though, that you treasure this new life more than all those things, even the art.
I'm thankful for this new space of place and life God has allowed you and Dave to receive, in order to breathe and to feel and to be.
Love you.
My wife and I often daydream about starting over somewhere new, but so much holds us here. Hope your journey is a fulfilling one.
just breathe it in...i need to do more of that myself...and i understand those times it is hard to pray...
I can so relate to this. We moved from Illinois to Colorado in August and everything about it--though I'd planned it out carefully-- seemed to go wrong. Baby in ER. Movers costing WAY more than they said. Renters that didn't pay for two months. It was HARD.
But I wouldn't trade it. I wouldn't trade the trials because they got us here...to a beautiful "do-over." A new life.
And for that, I am forever blessed.
First, a hug. For all those things stolen from you. And I don't just mean the material.
Second, a glass lifted in your honor. To the breath of life even as it freezes on our lips. To love that takes no packing space but permeates everything packed and everything left behind.
oh sarah... how life has been revealed to you, in all of its simplicity, and how Christ rises in you, in all of his glory. i rejoice in this beginning with you. there is reason. i glean from you friend, and long the best for you. xo
Hi sarah.
You said it best when you said, "There's power in beginning again." How true. How true.
I feel so bad that your stuff and YOUR CAR was stolen. One thing you do (and i have said this before) is no matter how dark you feel, you seem to always throw in a statement of hope.
I know just how difficult that is when you feel like God is one million miles away. It takes faith, even when we think we are completely faithless.
Love and peace to you my friend.
T
i've read this post twice and now, in this second reading, your words resonate more deeply. i mourn for your losses, but more for the pain of a year, for i know that too well. that trying to pray, and mourning and wondering, those have been my experience too. so i will pray for you, but your words of moving forward touched my heart that is just beginning to soften. thank you! *hugs*
your thoughts made me think "home" Therefore, welcome back - welcome Home!
I have missed you! It sounds like you have been through much since the last writing. Bless you. A stolen car?! And all that goes with that. I am sorry for the rocky start. I notice in my life, sometimes, right before something wonderful happens, there seems to be (suspiciously) a lot of obstacles in the way. Soo...I'm just saying. I'm waiting to see what beauty comes your way in 2011.
Thank you all! I want to write to each one of you, but I'm so tired. Know that I treasure your words, and they are enough. Bless you all.
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