2006-04-10

The Dismantling and Dreaming of Home

This is how the dismantling of a home begins: with the dream and possibility of another. Things begin to make a mental journey. A piece of furniture is placed in the memory of what a room looked like. A mental list begins in columns of things to sell, give away or throw away. You begin to make a journey, even before anything is certain, from reality to a dream of new beginnings.
~~~
I have been able to avoid my Sunday night mental races in my head pretty well lately. But last night, with the distorted memory of an apartment and internet pictures of another swimming around each other in my head, I couldn't get to sleep.

For awhile I chewed on these things, trying to picture our family in a new place. Tasting the unfamiliar, searching for that flavor that maybe holds a new ingredient. After awhile I realized I should just get up and spend some time with my Abba.

I wandered around in The Message for awhile, re-reading chapters I read last, choosing not to linger in psalms that speak of calamity. (Although transition is nerve-wracking, I know it's not that bad!)

This bit from the end of Matthew 10 spoke to me about not letting the transition or the amount of work to do take over my life:
"This is a large work I've called you into, but don't be overwhelmed by it. It's best to start small. Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won't lose out on a thing."
~~~
I was more peaceful last night about the whole apartments thing, the whole transition thing, soothed by time with my Father.

Instead of worrying about the location of our apartment, I will feather a nest for our family that is warm and cozy and attracts others.

Instead of worrying whether my kids are doing well enough to get into the new school, I will cuddle them and kiss them and celebrate their good hearts.

Instead of doing all the things that come so easily and naturally, I will seek shelter in the wings of The Most High.
~~~
Even though my face is touched with color from the spring sun, I feel compelled to pray for rain.