Transitions stretch me. . .
Which is my polite way of saying that I hate them.
Last weekend, Sierra blew through town. In less than 2 hours she had her childhood bedroom stripped and loaded into a UHaul and was headed back to GF to begin adulting outside of a dorm.
Phew. I was not ready for another empty bedroom.
I do not wish her back. She has my blessing to go forward, yet it sure feels empty upstairs. Where once every room was full, I now have three empty ones. What do I do with three empty bedrooms?
One is OK. I liked it even. One pretty room with a freshly made bed in the middle of the mess of family chaos. That felt like luxury. I would sneak into the guest room sometimes, just to enjoy the fact that I had one clean bedroom on that level of the house.
But three?
Yuck.
Chad and I had been talking about staying in this home “always.” It sounded so romantic to have the kids come home to the home of their youth, To watch the trees grow along with our grandchildren. But as that UHaul pulled away, along with the belongings of our third child, I was not so sure. Would it feel romantic, nostalgic and precious to grow old here - or just lonely? I am not sure. However, thankfully, today is not the day to decide.
But I am praying in a whole new way. . . Chad and I spent nearly 18 years adding to our family. We are both the oldest. This slow decline of bodies in our home is foreign to us. It is weird and unnatural to subtract rather than add to our brood. And yet, as we subtract, we also add.
That is some crazy math.
So today, I pray, God what should we do with our empty rooms? How, in this season, do we best use our home to serve and glorify You?
