On Change

Some of the mountains near our prospective home

Husband and I made an offer on a house and we are waiting to hear about our next steps and for the owners to do what needs to be done on their part.  I'm excited to go to the house and take pictures of everything and document the steps we take to make this house our perfect home.  It sits in a small town with a population of just over 600 looking toward mountains on several sides.  It has 1-2 acres (we will find out exactly when the survey is completed) so we will be able to have an amazing garden and possibly some animals.  I want goats for milk, sheep for wool, chickens for eggs, and bees for honey and other things.  I'm particularly excited to think about how my husband plans on creating a zen yard for us.  We will have the fish pond and water feature and grass, trees, rosebushes, lilac, and honeysuckle, but all this will take time to organize into the perfect zen area for us.  Don't be fooled by all my ravings, this house is a fixer upper, part of what we liked about it.  Right now we are somewhere in between excited because it will be our first home and it will be ours and trying not to get our hopes up too high in the event that the owners don't want to continue to work with us.  This area of in between.  It sings of hope and uncertainty.  It says, "Look what you can do, and look at what you've left behind."  We've become comfortable in the house we rent now.  We don't dislike the house, we dislike the location.  We want to be homesteaders!  We want change.  Here's the thing:  I'm not usually very good at change. 

Someone mentioned to me the other day something about not being afraid of change in relationships.  It was an odd comment at the time because there are so many things that are changing in my life right now.  Some have to do with the prospect of moving to a new house, some have to do with decisions my husband has made, and others have to do with me internally.  So, for someone who doesn't do change very well, I sure am pushing for and experiencing a lot of it and for once, I find it refreshing.  You see, we all get stuck in life and we can either stay stuck or get out of it.  Or, we can see something when it is coming and try to handle it with grace and peace.  I've sought some of the changes occurring in life, others I noticed were coming with no direct action on my part.  Both have revealed different things to me.  The ones I've sought, like finding a house to purchase to make our own and becoming a more positive person, have shown me how to make rational decisions that can benefit anyone involved.  The changes that I've noticed coming without direct action on my part have shown me how act and respond to difficult situations and negative people. 

The biggest lessons I've learned is how to see the change coming and how best to respond.  I don't remember ever seeing it coming before, but instead, just being hit by it and finding it overwhelming.  This time, I noticed where two paths were moving side-by-side and then a gradual turning away.  This change wasn't a hurdle, it was acceptance of how life moves.  I journaled about my observations and worked through my emotions.  I prayed for everyone involved in this season of life change, and I continued on the path I saw before me.   When the two paths would meet again, I would try to be the same person.  I tried to be positive and supportive, but the paths were too different for anything to be the same. 

Books I bought a couple of weekends ago

I am not only bad at dealing with sudden change, but I am also bad and letting go of things or people I love.  The two are often intertwined.  The thing about moving is that you really find out how much stuff you really have.  I usually start packing things long before it is necessary because I don't like last minute rushes.  I want everything to be precise and in order.  I started packing my books.  I approach them with the idea that I will downsize in order to move.  My to-get-rid-of pile is about 6-10 books.  Out of over 300.  Yes, I have a hard time letting go of things I love.  Or, here's another one, we have been saving wine bottles for over a year now so that I can cut them down and make things out of them.  But because this isn't our house, I haven't been able to use them for what I want.  Do I throw them out, or pack them?  I mean, there are only about 10.  I love my ideas, so I don't want to let go of the things that facilitate them.  What about people?  I am fiercely loyal and usually do what I can to support my loved-ones.  Sometimes it is inevitable that we have to let someone go.  This is one change that has come, this is that story of two paths.

I don't begrudge the change of paths, I support the changes that need to occur in order for all involved to find peace and light.  But I am hurt.  Letting go hurts.  Having to purge things that we want to hold on to hurts.  Having the very thing you stand for, the love and support that has become part of your character, torn down hurts.  This is part of the internal change that I have been seeking, but I didn't realize that seeking for positivity and light would cause this.  I took it for granted that those I'm around would be there with me.  Am I so vain as to think I would be followed?  No, but I did think that perhaps it would be contagious.  Instead the opposite happened.  I wrote on this a bit in my last post, about things done with a good intention being misunderstood and misconstrued as something else.  Change does this, blindsiding us a bit, but it is also good for us.  Change can teach us if we allow it to.  If we choose to not allow ourselves to get stuck in the first place, change can be our ally.  We can acknowledge our hurt and the pain that is caused by it, and we can heal.  We can move forward and focus on the light ahead.  Let's walk with our eyes open and our hearts healed through the changes that life throws at us.  Let's handle them with grace and a peace in our hearts.



Light and Love,

Amber