The trip around the states seems further off than ever. The reality that we’re moving has begun to make its indelible mark upon us — we’re full of insecurities and questions. Personally, I feel on the verge of tears all of the time.
When I was a little girl, I used to lie in bed in terror by the thought of forever. I grew up in the beliefs of heaven and hell. Death was not the ultimate evil. It was not even something to be afraid of. It was just another doorway. I’d imagine a dot that represented me and a line that extended from it would represent my life. There’d be a little dent that represented death. Then, I would continue on and on and oN and ON and ON!
I’d yelp at the gaping vast amount of time that awaited me. It seemed hungry and yawning, ready to gobble me up. My mother would come and comfort me and tell me that what I was really afraid of was the unknown. This idea really didn’t comfort me that much, but my mother did.
Here the unknown has come to haunt me again. Regarding death, I’ve taken a que sera, sera approach. Whatever will be, will be. I will live a life pleasing to God because I believe He’s real and I love Him. I can’t really picture life not wanting to please Him. Living forever no longer has any fear for me. I’ve lost the idea of clouds and harps and realize I won’t be bored.
But for two years now, I have no idea what life will look like for us. I don’t know where we’ll live or what the house will be like or how day-to-day will play out. For two years, we’ve courted ideas and places. With the help of others, I started a school only to be deeply disappointed in that outcome. Then, there was the subbing and then tutoring turned out to be a full time job once it got underway. There was a busy summer. Italy. The blog. The full-time Spanish teaching gig. Tutoring again. Though the reality has played out to be somewhat calm and mundane, the emotional effort of constantly trying to decide has me exhausted.
I just want to be settled.
At least, that’s how I feel now. Once settled, I’ll probably long for adventure again.
Contentment is a habit difficult to cultivate. I do my best to suck the marrow from each moment, but my mind is always racing into the future, wondering what’s around the next bend.
I need to be patient. I have health. I have Paul. I’m in love with him. I have my girls, though each day I feel the natural pull away from me, for they, too, are concerned with the future.
I will try to relax. To breathe. To love and learn. Perhaps forever will be just an infilling of all the moments we rushed by.