Bittersweet.

When we moved South it was no big deal. My college friends and I had already seperated (though still remained close) despite moving to different states and cities and my new adventure of staying at home with my daughter was going to be awesome. I didn’t realize that I’d hate my new role tending to house cleaning and interacting with a little person who didn’t speak for several months. It took significant time and growing relationships for me to finally feel at home in our new city.

And so the time has come to move on. To move further south. To try and stay home and be a sub-par parent in a new city with no safety net of girlfriends. Girlfriends whose home we can go to at early morning hours I  never saw in college (unless I was still awake from the night before…) while still wearing pajamas and the possibility of teeth not being brushed is high. Though I trust God’s hand in this move I am deeply broken at the though of leaving a group of women who  have sustained me and my family on many levels for the past three years. *Que ugly cry*

This season of making new friends, finding a new church, and living in corporate housing while finding a new home is one that I firmly believe will draw me closer to the Lord. If I’m being honest, forever, I’d rather stick with my bubble of contentment and comfort. Where reading my Bible can be a checking of the box and calling girlfriends to vent can easily end in an impromptu drive to one another’s home. I’m leaving behind a home. One that’s on solid foundation and that I’ve poured myself tirelessly into.

It’s bittersweet, though. I know God’s provision for our family is great. His blessings are many and often appear in ways I never imagine. Girlfriends will come. A church home will happen. Playdates will resume. These friends turned family I leave behind will continue to be a part of our life, though in a different way.  My college friends have met my church friends. My old church friends will have to meet my new church friends. And, I suspect, in a few more years the new church friends will have to meet my New new church friends because we clearly like to buy and sell homes every three years. Seems legit.

The excitement of a new home, granite countertops, more square footage, and finding a Target that suits my needs is plenty but the waves of sadness are still present. I’m not nieve enough to think that we won’t make this place our new home, and I’m deeply convinced that some of the relationships we’ve made are not just because we happen to live in close proximity to one another. My desire to publicly name these women and speak profound volumes on what their influence and presence in my life has done to better me as a woman is high, though the significance of their impact and expressing that is much more suited for something more sentimental, more meaningful.

So here we are mere weeks from packing up and shipping out. I’m on auto pilot making arrangements with the moving company and preparing for extended time moving in with my parents (because being 27 and moving back home is SO cool.) The magnitude of the move has not yet hit me, but when it does, I’m thankful for girlfriends whose relationships are not defined by proximity and  a Father whose comfort is more than enough.

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