It’s been ten months since we moved from Las Vegas, but it still feels like we’re in transition. I’m over at The Mudroom today talking about being in the middle of the wilderness:
“We’re in our mid-thirties with two kids. We’re living with parents while others our age are buying homes and storing away for retirement 30 years down the road or less. We left a home, mild traffic (this is something when Southern California traffic can be hell on earth), and good insurance. We moved back home with the excitement of God doing new things in our lives and a willingness to follow Him wherever He leads us. But the novelty of change soon became dull, and we entered into the long in-between.”
Our nation is set to welcome Donald Trump as President tomorrow, and everything in me mourns- not because I fear him but because he’s become a catalyst to unleash the ugliness within.
I felt concussed most of November trying to sort through what had happened. I felt betrayed by those who share my faith, scared for those whose well-being and lives were being threatened because they were seen and labeled as outsiders. I was despairing and felt hopeless that a nation that boasts of progress is still so backwards.
I watched Obama’s farewell speech the only way I knew I could- alone with a box of tissues and a cup of hot tea. I was expecting to be inspired, to hear him call us to justice, to get me riled up and ready to face what’s to come. But his speech wasn’t a fiery sermon. It didn’t get me on my feet shouting hallelujahs and amens. Instead it was a heartfelt reflection of where we are and how we can move forward from here, and though it was inspiring, it made me wonder if having hope in people is too naive.
The days leading up to and after Thanksgiving I was bombarded with ad after ad for Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, and Cyber Monday. They were shouting at me, enticing me, telling me “good news” in the midst of hard times. Free shipping! Buy One Get One! Lowest prices of the year! Such sweet words to my frugal soul. They understood the game of shopping for me- getting the most bang for my buck. Funds had never been overly abundant in my life so deals had always been something to relish and boast of.
But with the many goodbyes and transitions we’ve gone through this year, with the heartache around the world and with the current of fear and grief running through our nation, I’ve lost taste for it. Possessions seem like sand slipping through our fingers in light of it all. Little of what we own will last in value or entertainment or even in sentimentality when life requires us to downsize and move or forces us from our normal lives into the unknown…