Georgia on My Mind
The last few days have been consumed with trying to sort out the logistics of our move to Georgia. We are now in the process of working out all the little details of our move and I’m hanging on to my sanity by a very thin thread. We are heading out of town tomorrow for a quick trip (because that’s what smart people do 12 days before they move) so between trying to pack for that trip, scheduling moving companies to come give us a moving quote and orchestrating flights down south things have been ba-nan-as. Things like blogging, exercising, cleaning and healthy eating are currently falling by the wayside…and probably will continue to be touch-and-go until we move and get settled.
On Monday, I was feeling incredibly overwhelmed by all the decisions that have to be made and all the schedules that have to align in order for this move to be a success. And it wasn’t just the decisions that have to be made, but more that they all have to be made in just a few short days. And as I was trying to make all the decisions, Andi was crying every time I put her down and Atlas was crying because I couldn’t pick him up. Top that with my husband e-mailing me to ask if I could just commit to a specific shade of leather for a new couch and I was about ready to go stand on a NYC street corner with a sign that said, “Will work for a xanax.”
I put the kids down for their nap and contemplated sitting down with a brown paper bag to do some breathing exercises, but instead grabbed my Bible and prayer journal out of habit. I opened my prayer journal and realized I was on the very last blank page.
I started keeping that prayer journal in 2014. So much life has happened since 2014. So many prayers journaled. So many prayers answered.
Before I began crying out to God to drop xanax from Heaven like manna, I flipped through the pages I’ve poured my heart and soul onto over the last 2 years.
With each old prayer I read, I recalled how God has been so incredibly faithful to me and my stress began to melt away.
On the 3rd page of that journal, I wrote, “God, you know where I would love to live? Atlanta. Or at least somewhere close. I know that isn’t realistic, but that’s where I would love to be. Please change my heart to enjoy where I’m at now though.” I actually forgot about that very specific prayer, but God clearly didn’t. Isn’t it so nice to know that our prayers don’t have expiration dates?
There were prayers in there that God answered, but with a ‘no.’ And ‘no’ is still an answer. Opportunities that didn’t work out, but looking back I’m so thankful for those closed doors (as painful as some of them were). What seemed like rejections at one time, ultimately redirected our family to where we are now.
As I walked down memory lane through the pages of my prayer journal, I was reminded that so many of the things that were causing me stress were things I prayed fervently for. I prayed for Andi Rose. I prayed that God would give me a baby girl. Yes – that baby that has been interrupting my sleep and clinging to my hip, preventing me from doing anything with 2 hands, is a gift I prayed for.
She’s certainly feels like a gift when she’s happy and smiling and lighting up our home with her giggles…but at 5am when she’s screaming, it is a little harder to remember that she is, in fact, still a gift from the Lord. Isn’t it funny how sometimes the very blessings we ask God for can become the very things we complain about? I was deeply convicted by that.
Obviously, this move is still stressful, as all moves are. There is still so much to be done. I’m not writing this from a holy pedestal where I feel no anxiety (←Dave will be quick to vouch for me on that one). But this is all part of what I’ve been praying for and I’ll gladly take the burden of moving that comes with the blessing of a new place to call home. And God has been so faithful with the big things – providing the job for Dave and a home for us – it would be silly for me to stop trusting him with the tiny things like the moving truck.
At this point, I’m just so incredibly excited to get down south. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ll never be ‘done’ with NYC. There will always be something left to do here, so I certainly can’t say, “I’m over it” but mentally I’m officially checked out of the Big Apple. Georgia is on my mind! 🙂
Oh, and if you’re wondering what I wrote on the very last page of my prayer journal that day, it was quite simple.
Sometimes all we need is a little gratitude to shift our perspective.