The “Time between times”

I always get wierded out before traveling.  You have this thing where you know a vacation or trip is coming yet surreally you’re living your life day to day as if it isn’t happening.  You’re both in anticipation and a little bit of dread that at the last second your plans will all fail.  It’s almost like you’re in a constant out of body experience, you see yourself going through the motions knowing that shortly it’ll all be diferent.  Then comes the time where you actually have to pack and think about weather or not you’re taking enough clothes for the journey. (and if you’re like me you’re wondering if you have enough clean clothes)  You pack up and then comes the really freaky part, you actually leave.  But on a vacation or trip there’s a comfort.  No matter what happens you’ll come home.  You’ll come back to the familiar, comfortable daily grind.  But then there’s moving.  There’s leaving a life you lived behind forever and knowing that you can’t undo your decision.  There’s no “Oops, I made a mistake.  My bad everyone.”  You know that even if you do come back it won’t be the same.  It won’t be the comfortable apartment and furniture you’ve had, that your job will now be done by another.  I’ve wondered why this move has been more difficult than the two other “faith moves” I’ve made.  I’ve come to the realization that in the other moves I really had nothing to lose.  At best I’d just be in a different locale.  Same job, different yet similar friends, and at worse I’d be no better off for moving.  Now I’m leaving a job I’ve done for ten years, a home that’s been “mine” for two years, and a unique church and mixture of friends that I know I’ll never find again in the same way they exist now.  I’m leaving the comfortable drudgery of a job I can do without thought, an apartment that looks the same every night as when I left it in the morning, and friends that I’ve known for years. (even with our “difficulties”)  Luke 17:33 has been piercingly meaningful during this time, 

33 Whoever seeks to preserve his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life will keep it.

This verse has become more real to me in the last month than I ever imagined.  Even in my attempts to transport/ship my furniture this verse smacked me in the face.  I was attempting to “preserve” a little of my life from California and the question of, “Where is your real comfort?  What exactly are you trying to hold on to?” have kicked me in the gut.  I’m leaving a life.  I’m leaving a lifestyle.  And where I’m going isn’t all that comfortable.  I’m nearly 32 and going to college full time for the first time.  I have few connections where I’m going, and that I’m purposely entering into a conflict with my family that it would be so easy to be a continent away from.  God’s provided enough for tuition but not for living  and I just bought a new car.  I want to trust and be in faith for all of these things, but the weight sometimes feels crushing.  That and the knowlege I’m hurting those I love by leaving makes for sleeples nights and long blog posts.  Yet I’m selling off my stuff.  I’m packing up the little salvaged of my life in California and trusting God to return a hundredfold for good or ill.  Maybe I’ve never made a real “faith move” till now.  Maybe a “faith move” isn’t simply heading into the unknown.  Maybe it’s letting go of the known good and trusting that God somehow, in some way, has better.


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