Why I Wish it Was Cold... an Update Of Sorts

It happened. We moved and are starting to figure out a routine. That huge life transition we anxiously awaited for months has happened. It's over... And yet it's not. I feel like the time limit for "the transition" has expired, and yet, I still feel in limbo. Yes, we have a house. Yes, James and I have a job. The kids are in school and life as we know it would seem to be moving right along.

And yet, I still feel like I am being dragged through the motions right now... New motions.

My head tells me not to complain. We have it so good. We live in a great neighborhood, have the amazing support of family just minutes away from our house. The jobs are great, the schools are great... It's all great.

And yet, sometimes I feel so weighed down by it all that I want to either sleep for days, or cry.

But that would be silly, says my head. You've got nothing to cry over. You've got to be strong for the kids... I mean they're the ones going through a huge transition right now. You've got to be on top of your game at work. It's a new fancy school and everybody's watching you... The new girl.

Friendships are new and relationships still feel like work. I am no where near my groove. And yet, I tell myself it's fine.

How quickly I forget that just months ago I was living in a foreign country... Or am I living in the foreign country now? How quickly I forget that this move was a really big deal, not just for the kids, but for me too. For James, for our marriage relationship. It's all just really big.

So I guess it's ok to admit that... Although, in all honesty, I haven't admitted it to anyone out loud... Like real words coming out of my mouth and not through a key board. I'm afraid to admit that this is hard. I feel as though I'm not allowed to admtit my weakness.

And yet, isn't that what God has called us to do? To admit our weakness and come to Him?

As the days go by and the heat of summer lingers on I can't help but wish for the cool breeze of Fall. I am longing To put on jackets and scarves as though they are some sort of covering and protection against all of this new.

The heat and the Mosquitos are just a reminder that I am still in this transition. This limbo of feeling normal. Every morning as I gaze into my closet to pick out clothes for work, I stare at my sweaters longingly, the warmness and protection they provide. The covering. I need that. And each morning as I grab the short sleeve blouse and skirt, I am reminded that I am being called to live in the transition.

So here I sit. Cold drink in hand, fans blowing as I try to stay cool. Uncomfortably in the transition.