"I've put out a lot of little roots these two years," Anne told the moon, "and when I'm pulled up they're going to hurt a great deal. But it's best to go, I think, and, as Marilla says, there's no good reason why I shouldn't. I must get out all my ambitions and dust them." - Anne of Avonlea
There is something very final about boxes, especially when you are shipping them. You carefully assemble the box, sealing and securing it with tape. You place the contents inside, you fill out the necessary labels, paperwork (in my case, when shipping internationally, you fill out customs paperwork), etc. You carefully close and seal the box with more tape. Step 1 is complete. Done. The next step will be taking the boxes to the post office, sliding the parcels across the counter to be shipped. Step 2 is complete. Done.
For those of you who may not have seen on Facebook, I have decided to move back to Canada in August of this year. My heart still feels great peace about this decision, and I feel that God's hand is completely and totally upon this process. I've been experiencing differing emotions since the news of my returning to Canada went public. Most days, my heart is excited with the anticipation of being home with my family and friends. Other days, I feel a sadness in my heart, as I know that, in order to be home with my family and friends, I have to leave my "adopted" family and dear friends behind in Oklahoma. In between, I feel slight pangs of anxiety, as I ponder what the next steps are going to look like, such as what I should take home, what I should sell, where I will work, and the list goes on.
And then I pack those first boxes. Four sealed and addressed boxes sit on the floor in my livingroom, like a fierce reality, staring me square in the face.
This is really happening. I'm really going home. No turning back.
Sometimes being an adult is hard. Man. Sometimes merely doing the right thing is hard. But then I remember the Scripture I taught during our Sunday School preliminaries a couple of weeks ago:
There are two paths before you; you may take only one path. One doorway is narrow. And one door is wide. Go through the narrow door. For the wide door leads to a wide path, and the wide path is broad; the wide, broad path is easy, and the wide, broad, easy path has many, many people on it; but the wide, broad, easy, crowded path leads to death. Now then that narrow door leads to a narrow road that in turn leads to life. It is hard to find that road. Not many people manage it. (Matthew 7:13-14, THE VOICE)
I realize, of course, that Jesus was speaking particularly about seeking salvation through Him, in this passage. But can we not apply this Scripture to being obedient to His teaching, and following where He leads us? Jesus goes on to say, in verses 24-25:
Those people who are listening to Me, those people who hear what I say and live according to My teachings—you are like a wise man who built his house on a rock, on a firm foundation. When storms hit,rain pounded down and waters rose, levies broke and winds beat all the walls of that house. But the house did not fall because it was built upon rock. (Matthew 7:24-25, THE VOICE)
Many of us have entered through that narrow gate. We've accepted Christ, and we've made the decision to follow Him, and to honor Him and serve Him. Oh, but being obedient. Being an adult. Doing the right thing in His sight. Now there's a challenge for we who follow Jesus.
So, yes. I'm taking a step in "adult-ing", as I've so often heard it said. I'm taking responsibility for things that I have not given my attention to in the past. I'm learning and growing, yet again, and I'm doing the hard things that I didn't want to do before. It hurts. And then it's exciting. And then it hurts again.
But it's worth it. Following Jesus, the One who died and rose again, paying a great price for my freedom from sin, is worth it. Even when it's the hard thing. Even when the road is narrow, and lonely, and not everyone around you understands. Even when your mind is on the things ahead, but you must remain present, right where you are.
Even when you have to pack and seal those boxes. Even when you will have to say those goodbyes, hug those necks, wipe away those tears. Even when you will have to step on that plane, and return home.
It's worth it. Every single time. And the light will come, when your family welcomes you home, smothers you in hugs and kisses, and you begin again, on a new adventure.
I will experience a new "normal", a new chapter, a new journey. And for now, I begin my preparations, with just a few boxes.
Pray for me, friends, as I continue through this season of "finishing well", and onto a season of transition.
Blessings.
