My head is full of thoughts. I feel maxed, jumbled, unsettled. I know this feeling well. It happens to me every time I've gone through a stretching experience, something that has pushed me beyond my comfort zone. Something like moving to Denver, or leaving my childhood home, or getting married, or having my first child. And now that the initial stretch, that growing experience has let up a little, I start to process all the things I have learned from this newest growth spurt. Its usually a time when I need to stop taking in information, stop reading, stop filling my mind, and instead give myself outlets to start processing. Usually for me that means writing, in some form or another.
It's been hard to write lately with all of our house hunting. My days are literally filled with emails back and forth to our realtor, looking at houses online, chatting with Lover about said houses, going to see said houses, submitting offers (18 so far!) and discussions about what our plans should be. Obviously, this is alongside of everything else - caring for the kids, keeping the house some semblance of clean, doing laundry once in a blue moon, oh and did I mention I'm almost six months pregnant?... it's been hectic. I feel scattered and maxed, and although I have about five posts in my drafts folder, it's been really hard to focus and sit down and finish one.
But writing is cathartic for me. As I put my thoughts and emotions down in writing, my head starts to clear out, and I can breathe deeply again. So here I am, attempting to put together coherent sentences about what God is teaching me these days.
Someone asked me about four months ago to write on my blog about what God has taught me through this move. I didn't know what to say because I hadn't figured that out yet! I mean there's the obvious things, God is always with me, He is always my sustainer, etc. Those are things I've been learning for years but I've learned another layer of them, if you will, with this move.
So what am I learning that's specific to this move?
Fresh startsI'm learning that I love fresh starts. The discovery of exploring new places, of meeting new people, forming new relationships. Of worshipping with a different group of the family of God, and learning new things about Him from them. It's invigorating. Some people thrive on putting down roots, establishing long lasting relationships, and settling in. Others, and apparently I am one of them, thrive on exploring and discovering.
I'm not as much of a free spirit as some, I like to put down temporary roots, spend a few years in a place. Meet people, make a home, settle in. But then I start to get restless. I start to crave adventure again. I start to think about moving, starting over, meeting a new community.
Interestingly, I learned a few years ago that tumbleweeds are not actually dead. When they no longer like the place that they are in, they pull up their roots and let the wind sweep them where it may until they find a new desirable location to stay. Then, they put their roots back down and settle in. Isn't that cool?
I guess you could say I'm more of a tumbleweed than a grapevine, instead of putting down roots that will last for centuries, I'm more of the, let's pull up roots and find a new adventure! Kind of girl.
There are gobs of tumbleweeds out here. On one of our first weekends here, we drove north to Wyoming because neither of us had ever been to the great state of Wyoming. On the way up there, a massive storm was blowing in, and tumbleweeds were flying across the highway like paper in front of a fan. Some were little, no bigger than a beach ball. Others were enormous. At one point, we had to swerve to miss one that was the size of the front of our van! It was literally level with the bottom of the windshield! It was such a crazy, fun experience.
Every time I see a tumbleweed out here, whether it's blowing across the road, or smashed up against a fence, I think of what I learned about them. To me they are a picture of our time here on Earth as Christians. I'm never really supposed to put down deep, long, far reaching roots into this temporal home. Instead, I need to keep my eyes fixed on eternity, knowing that what I lay up in store as treasures in Heaven are the eternal things. So that may mean being open to a move, or a new experience, a new relationship or a new calling from the Lord.
As we search for a home, our deadline looms up bigger and bigger. The reality of NOT having a place to live in a few weeks is a little terrifying. But God keeps using those tumbleweeds to remind me to stay flexible, to be open to whatever God has for us over the next few months. So if you see me these days, and I look a little windblown... well, now you know why. I'm learning to be a tumbleweed.
