Letting Go

Finally.....a moment.

We've been so busy--sorting, packing, selling, sending, opening the clenched-tight fists, letting go.  We've been so busy doing, there's been no time to process.  No time to think things through.

No time to simply. just. be.

Days have been filled from early morning until late evening.  We've been shaken, uprooted, displaced.  It feels uncertain.  Hazy.  Yet all the while, regardless of how we feel, He is there.

                                         photo by Pyrah's Pioneer Peak Farm

Unmoveable.

He makes it abundantly clear that He is here, and I'm so grateful.  And although He towers above us so much greater than His creation, He also makes clear that He cares about all our details.  He cared about orchestration of our mammoth packing-up and selling process. 

 He cared about sending a kind family to live in our old home, who will love it and be good neighbors to our dear friends.  He cared about creating relationships while providing transportation for our household effects. Goodness, He cared about providing the three sizes and flavors of pizzas we wanted for moving day, from the pizza shop we wanted, 1 ½ hours before it opened for the day!  He has shown us over and over again, that if we trust Him and act accordingly, He will take care of all.

This process of transplanting has been more difficult than I ever thought it would be.  Of course there has been a gigantic, on-going, must-do list, and all the fatigue to accompany it.  That's been the "easy" part.  It's the other stuff that has been agonizing at times...the emotions and saying good-bye over and over again.  Helping our sons navigate through these changes, with the highs and lows.  That's the stuff that's not so easily done and then crossed off neatly with a pen.  

We've been maneuvering through day after week after month of letting go.  God keeps reminding that we need to open up the hands to receive what He has next for us.  When you open those fists, you have to let go of what they're holding onto.  That takes courage, and quite frankly, some days I don't have enough.  Years of following after Him has shown me I can trust Him...but it's still hard. 

 

Sometimes, it hurts.  There have been days I've been filled with such grief it's been difficult to take a breath.  Pray?  There are no words.  Most, the vast majority in fact, of my prayers in this season have been on the tail-end of fatigued, emotionally-charged, anxious thoughts.  My prayers have been two words long: "Jesus Help."  You know what?  Those words have been enough. 

"Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness.  For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words."  Romans 8:26

When I choose to look to God for my help, my perspective shifts, and hope enters my heart.  This season hasn't been all difficulties.  

There have also been unspeakable joys and hopes throughout this process:  New appreciation for people and for this magnificent place we've called home for over 16 years.  Recognition that this world is not our true home.  Areas where we've misplaced our trust in things.  New understanding of the depth of love we're blessed to have toward others.    Dreaming and anticipation over our future and the possibilities.  Looking ahead to unmatched quantity of non-fragmented family time.  All these things give us joy (!) but as we simultaneously grieve, it's hard to wrap our minds around those things which are coming.  Right now, we're just learning to trust...opening the clenched-fists...and letting go.