I am moving.

I am not the first person on the planet to move, nor do I have the biggest move of all moves to make. My beautiful friend has moved several times and with 7+ children in tow. My sister moved her whole life from Japan and packed her every earthly belonging into a box the size of a Volkswagen Scirocco. But for some reason this move has paralyzed me. I feel completely snowed under – covered up by the task in front of me. I have been packing for weeks and I have 3 days left before the trigger is pulled and if you walked into my house you would think I hadn’t even started (and that a pack of wild dogs has taken up residence). 

I’m excited at the adventure ahead and yet anxious about the love, support and comfort of the community I am leaving behind. 

I am currently sitting on the potty, hiding from the reality beyond the pocket door – the dozens and dozens of partially packed boxes, weeks worth of clutter, a 13 year old that wants to lie in bed all day, a 5 year old that insists on unpacking every box I pack, a recently discovered pile of dog vomit in the next room… and all I want is my mom. 

She would be here (even when she was wheelchair bound and confused) to direct me, keep me motivated, make me giggle and create a beautiful memory out of the chaos that surrounds me. 

I am so thankful for my moms group. This tribe of women has had my 5 year old over during the day so I can be productive and brought dinner to the kitchen table that I normally am so proud to display my own weeknight dinners upon. 

It’s interesting because I am usually the rescuer, not the one needing rescued. I have spent nights on couches helping people finish term papers, organized home improvement projects, helped others pack, streamlined volunteer efforts, rallied around friends in need; but right now, I need the buoy tossed to me. I’m drowning.

So, today I surrender. 

I mean it. I completely lay down every stress, every to-do list, every anxiety and every unmet goal before the only one who can give me the strength to get through. I will pack every box as prayer of thanksgiving.  I will look at the challenges as opportunities. I will “praise Him in the storm” that is this move. 

I believe surrendering is directly related to the tone of my internal voice. That voice that either says “holy crap there’s no way I can get this all done.” Or,  “thy will be done.”

They say change your mind, change your life. 

I say change your mind, change your perspective, change other’s lives around you. 

My mom moved our family into our house with 4 girls in tow when I was not quite one year old. I don’t have memories from that move but I can only imagine the stress she endured that day and many days that followed. I never remember her yelling at me out of a place of her complete exhaustion as I have been guilty of as of late. She was always a safe place for me. A constant in times of hardship and times of joy. That’s what I want to be. A constant reminder of love and peace- not a stark raving lunatic of a mother that’s one box away from the looney bin. 

This move is for our family. 

So I am waving the white flag. 

I will change my mind. 

I will change my perspective.  

I will pack with a smile. 

I will (try) not (to) yell.

 [baby steps, people.]

I surrender.