I hate moving. Have I ever mentioned that?
You'd never know it by looking at our family's moving history. While I don't take the entire blame for our gypsy-like roaming, I suppose at some point I could have put my proverbial foot down and insisted we stay put. However, I wanted my husband to be happy and content, and so we have moved. And moved. And moved a few more times.
I can say with 100% accuracy that God has orchestrated all of our moves....doors opened miraculously, jobs and homes found easily....so part of me says that God moved us this many times. I can see in each place we've lived at least ONE reason that God placed us in that particular place at that particular time.
So how do I answer people who make fun of us? Some are well meaning, just kidding kind of folks. But there's a whole other realm of "kidding" -- the point at which it actually hurts. What I want to say is "Take it up with God. Make fun of HIM. He's the one that keeps us hopping."
But then I wonder.....is it Him? Or is it me?
And if it is me....is that bad?
I have always said I wanted roots. I wanted my children to know one place as HOME. I moved so much as a child that I never felt secure or a sense of belonging.
That's IT! Belonging. I don't know where I fit. In Manteo, I was Paul South the columnist's wife. In Bardstown, I was the new mom in town (and the Editor's wife). In Biloxi....now there I can say I fit. I loved it. Loved the people, loved my house. But hubs wanted to go to seminary and he was in a bit of a post-Katrina depression/funk/job thing, so we moved to New Orleans (when most of the city wasn't even up and running again).
I fell in love with this city. I love the culture, the music, the food, the language, the color. I love my job. I love being a part of someplace so unique. I never thought I'd leave.
Until we left. It's difficult to live in this city without a good bit of money. Schools cost a small salary (unless you're brave enough to send your kids to public school or lucky enough to make the Lusher lottery). We felt we had no choice financially but to leave.
Lafayette stunk. There's no other way to say it. I regretted it the moment we got there, and it only got worse. I was hated at my new job and had no one to back me up. I knew instantly that I wouldn't be able to stick it out. But the stubborn part of me didn't want to give in and move back because of what others would say about me...about us.
Eventually the whole family was begging to go back to New Orleans, and so we came back to try to make it again. And again, we stretched and saved and sacrificed as long as we were able. Illness made us realize we were all alone without a back up plan. Well meaning friends are always available, but when you're looking at life and death situation, you need family. You just do.
So here we are again, on the cusp of a new adventure. I won't say it's our last move....I can't see into the future. But I hope and pray it is. I hope that the kids make amazing friends and love their schools.
I hope we all find contentment and peace and joy.
I hope we all feel a sense of belonging.
I hope we all feel we are finally home.