I am feeling a bit reflective these days, and I wanted to jot down some thoughts. I've been thinking a lot lately about letting go. I have a book, in fact, by Francois Fenelon called 'Letting Go'. It is a fabulous book in many ways and urges us to keep looking up and keep walking and giving thanks when things get hard. He wrote it for a friend who was suffering with a terminal illness.
I am (finally!) sitting down for the day, listening to a most beautiful collection of hymns by Selah (thanks, Mom). It is rainy and cold, and the house is quiet. I am looking around me, at this house. Remembering our lives over the past 11 years here. So much has happened, so much has changed. Five of our children were born while we lived here. Our older boys have turned into men in this home. My husband and I have turned into better parents in this home. Our marriage has bloomed in this home. We have walked through valleys where we thought we couldn't go on. We have soaked up the sun on the mountain tops. We have lived in-between, mostly, learning to trust the One Who leads us on.
Here are my thoughts on letting go. Of this home, of this season, of my children as they grow and make plans to fly.
The walls of this home, if they could speak
Would laugh! Would cry! Would sing out!
And what stories they would tell
Stories of joy and struggle
Birth and growth and change
Of family and friends, bonded by truth
Of the love of God
and the trials of men
History stories, art lessons, science experiments at the kitchen table
Cooking, baking, writing, jumping
Adding, subtracting, wiggling
Fussing, fighting, apologizing, weeping
Planning, washing, holding, reading
Laughing, bouncing, swinging
Eating, talking, singing, plinking, strumming
Building, dancing, dreaming
Climbing, digging, planting, messing
Training, teaching, learning, praying
Holding, reading, rocking, sleeping
Someone asked me if I was excited about moving. My answer was yes. And no. Yes for more space inside and out. And more storage, hallelujah! No for the next season that I don't feel ready for. To continue on in coaching my children into adulthood. To move into the ending of our child-bearing years. To grow into that wiser, older mother and wife and friend. Here I am, not quite ready for change, but facing it with my eyes behind me in gratitude and my eyes before me with hope.