At Home

We've recently been in the long process of moving into our new home. The process begun in September at the closing and continues to the present. We just moved in last week. We're all here--- all 4 of us and all our stuff, but the addition is incomplete so we won't be completely settled for a bit more.

The second day here, I told Doug that I was surprised at how quickly I felt at home here. I felt such a sigh of relief to be at this point after all of the work we've done. I loved the coziness of the place even then, and loved the view of a street bursting with bungalows from our large front porch.

Since those first couple days, I've been to Charlotte and back to get the boys and me out of dodge while Doug immersed himself in some "nonchild-friendly" projects.

Upon returning, I've realized that the initial feelings of "at home" have largely relocated. They've been replaced by some unwelcommed tenants of stress and restlessness.

Why?
I don't have a routine for this place yet. I have no place for my keys. Justin, routine-boy, isn't yet telling me what next thing to do or where things should go.

My stuff hasn't all found a home. Until the addition (master bedroom, bath, and rest of kitchen) is complete, our furniture will be stuffed in some unlikely places... so we can't yet hang pictures and that kind of thing since everything will be shifted.

My days have been filled with much different activities of late. Things like doing laundry (our laundry room isn't quite finished- hopefully tomorrow!) and preparing food (part of the kitchen including my oven is blocked for dry-wall sanding currently) used to fill my day to the brim. Now, I'm shipping my laundry to some friends-saints really- to do for us, eating lots of canned/frozen food, etc. These are chores I definitely didn't googoo over, but they were a part of my daily activities... structures in which I found "homeyness" that I oddly miss. And, obviously, I haven't been able to write on my blog!

I don't know the how this street runs quite yet. We don't have nicknames for all the neighbors yet, don't know the peculiarities of the culture of this street.

Many of my hopeful thoughts about the neighborhood have been replaced with negativity. The Family Dollar down the street, which reflects the socio-economic diversity of the area, used to make me excited about living amidst the cultural variety that Asheville offers. Now, it's ugly and annoying. And I find my flesh hoping the neighborhood would "progress" to a point where it wouldn't need such an establishment in its midst. And I wonder how I can avoid naming it as a landmark upon giving friends directions to our pad.

So where does that leave me? Sharing these thoughts with you, with the Lord, with my husband. I know I love a God who longs that I know Him more deeply. And as I clung to Him today, He gratefully reminded me some truth....

That my reality, my settledness, how I feel at home... isn't dependent upon hung pictures but upon His Reality... His Gospel, His plan for our life here, His love for me, His redemption. With that said, I'm certain he wouldn't be angry or humored by my feelings... I'm sure He'd understand with compassion all that I'm feeling. But I think if I could sit down for a cuppa joe with Him, He'd graciously listen all the while graciously redirecting my thoughts to these Realities. And I think He'd encourage my love for order-- while also reminding me to use it to bless but not to lean on it for strength and hope.

And I think I'd ask Him to tell me all that He loves about my new neighborhood.
And I imagine Him never finishing.