home.

Take a deep breath.

Check.

Slow down.

Seriously? Do I have to?

Do one thing at a time.

Fine.

The attitudes that ping-pong my internal dialogue annoy even me sometimes.

See, the stack of boxes lining the room didn’t seem overwhelming…until I started to unpack them. Ya’ll, I had no clue how much stuff this girl (points to self) had collected!
Congratulations are in order, because now, ladies and gentlemen, I do. Drumroll please….

Amount of stuff I own = Never-ending.

As I chatted with customers at the drive-through window this week I gave the same answer over and over again.

“Plans for the weekend? Probably packing boxes.”
“What am I doing this afternoon? Oh, I’m moving.”
“Anything fun going on? Um…well…organizing my new living space…”

My little fluffy friend (Sunshine) became extremely affectionate right around the time I first started packing boxes. Or maybe it was when the first potential buyer came to check out the house… Either way, as the moving date got closer and the room got emptier, she cuddled up to me in a sort of desperate way. I think she might have been concerned I would wrap her in tissue and box her up too.

Thud.

When the lamp tipped over Sunshine transitioned from her spot on the sofa to the bathroom counter at the kitty speed of light. I looked up in time to witness the look of shock and confusion on her furry face. Those blue eyes communicated undeniable DISTRESS.

“Awe, Baby Girl, you just don’t know what to do with yourself, do you? You are SO confused.”

Oh.

As soon as the words tumbled out of my mouth I realized that I felt the same way.

(Yes, I am emotionally relating to my cat. Get over it.)

To be honest, this whole transition thing has been really hard. On Sunshine, for sure! But, I’m starting to realize that it’s been hard on me too.

Exciting? Sure. Stressful? At times. Exhausting? Yes. …Fun? Nope.

I feel at peace and terrified.

I feel unraveled and tangled up.

I feel grateful and discontent.

I feel happy and unnervingly sad.

I feel like a box of old keepsakes that has been flipped upside down and lies strewn across the hallway floor.

Now I’m trying to sort the pieces, and it’s like doing a jigsaw puzzle without the cover picture. But not as much fun, considering my daily tasks depend on the solution.

My precious routine: Will someone please tell me which box I packed that up in? I would like to recover it ASAP!

My sense of stability: That tipped over with the lamp, I think.

My established control: No comment.

My equilibrium feels off kilter.

To any poor soul that has ever engaged in the moving process I just want to pause and say:
YOU ARE A BRAVE SURVIVOR AND YOU HAVE MY FULL ADMIRATION.

Through this whole “moving” ordeal, I’ve had a personal epiphany (besides realizing the massive amount of my belongs).

I want to feel at home.

And recently, “home” has been a very intangible and somewhat scary unknown.

That bothers me.

More than I had allowed myself to admit. 

In all the chaos of my transition, my heart has been silently crying out: Go home, Jo.

Go home to where the shelves display your precious keepsakes.
Go home to where the blankets wrap around your tired shoulders.
Go home to where the cup of tea welcomes you with a good book.
Go home to where the dirt of the day washes down the shower drain.
Go home to where the four walls have seen you at your worst and continued to stand.
Go home to where your pillow has caught your shameless tears.
Go home to where your favorite playlist fills the rooms.
Go home to where you can be yourself…and feel welcome there.

Go home, Jo.

“God, I’m tired of feeling like this! Nothing feels right!”

Oh.

Personal epiphany #2: Moving houses isn't what stirred my heart to long for Home.

That longing has been hidden in there for a long, long time.

As an infant, it sobbed uncontrollably when Mom didn’t come back for what felt like an un-survivable amount of time.

It raised its voice when I was in middle school and held the cold body of the runt of my first litter of bunnies.

It ached when my best friend confided in me her frustration and confusion.

It whispered when Goodbye became final instead of temporary.

This longing to Go home is really nothing new.

And I don't like it. It's uncomfortable. Some days it makes me angry. Some days it turns to tears. Some days it just feels restless and nothing seems to soothe it.

I want to go home!

There is something in me that just knows that I was made for more than this busted up world filled with death, dead ends, disappointment, and damaged people limping through life trying to mend brokenness that refuses to cooperate.

I reached out and felt Him take me by the hand.

“We’re not home yet, Baby Girl.”

With every wrong cabinet door I open, and every missing item I search for, and every hint of discomfort and unease I feel in my new living quarters, I remember again.

“We’re not home yet, Baby Girl. Just hang tight.”

In this world that I have planted my two feet upon, I will never find the home that I desire.

 “We’re not home yet, Baby Girl. Just hang tight. I’m going to get you there, but I need you to trust Me.”

No matter how hard I try to establish myself here, gain balance, grasp control…I will always come up short of perfection.

“We’re not home yet, Baby Girl. Just hang tight. I’m going to get you there, but I need you to trust Me. I will be right here with you every step of the way.”

Well, that’s good, because if I have to do this whole “life” thing alone, I’m screwed.

(He loves me in spite of my attitude)

So, when I feel disheveled, unraveled, wound tight, and every other disorientation under the sun, I’m asking God for the grace to be gentle with myself.

I’m not home yet.

Here lies the freedom to feel the pain of missing home. To feel the discomfort of not belonging. To feel the grace to stumble along the way. To feel the forgiveness for each wrong turn.

And to ever hold tight to my Abba’s hand.

"Hear my prayer, O LORD, and give ear to my cry; Do not be silent at my tears; For I am a stranger with You, A sojourner like all my fathers."

-Psalm 39:11

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end."

-Ecclesiastes 3:11

"But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself."

-Ephesians 3:20

All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a country of their own.

-Hebrews 11:13-15

"For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

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 8:22-26

"I am feeble and crushed;    I groan because of the tumult of my heart.

O Lord, all my longing is before you;
    my sighing is not hidden from you."

-Psalm 38:8-9