It doesn't feel real.

I woke up early this morning to finish packing. There's a lot to get done.

Then the phone call came. The POD arrived. The POD that we'll pack tomorrow night. The POD that will hold my stuff in storage while I live with Laura and look for an apartment. An apartment in Atlanta. Atlanta...as in Georgia. I'll register my car, get a new drivers' license and write a different zip code on the top, left corner of letters sent. 

Yup. I'm moving to Atlanta. Thursday morning. That's less than 48 hours from now. And that's weird. Really weird.

When I moved from Boulder to Austin, it was such a whirlwind that I didn't have time to think about it. I resigned my job on September 1, my last day was on the 15h, I accepted a new job that same evening, and I moved three weeks later. It was quick. There were goodbyes, but there was not much time for tears after the initial shock. Leaving Colorado was like ripping off a bandaid quickly. It hurt, but it wasn't until several weeks later after the reality sunk in that I wasn't on vacation visiting my brother. I wasn't going to be able to hang out with Amy, there were no more runs with Carolyn and Julia and happy hours with Julie on Pearl Street were a thing of the past. I unpacked, got settled and figured out life in Austin.

Life in Austin has had its ups and downs. I'd like to say that the last 3+ years were filled with nothing but happy memories. But there have been challenges and hurts. There have been loses and frustrations. And there have been disappointments and heartbreaks. I'm thankful for all of it. 

Nonetheless, it's mostly been good. It's been full of life, friendships, laughter, joy and incredible memories. As usual, God has a plan and it's better than mine. I'm not surprised. It's just the way things are, and I love it. I love life.

I should be packing right now. There's a LOT of stuff still scattered all over this place. Stuff that goes in boxes. Stuff that gets wrapped up delicately. And stuff with which I'm not quite sure what to do. 

It seems as if my life here in Austin feels the same way. There are some things that I can put behind me. There are experiences that are no longer part of my life. They may or may not have left deep impressions in my heart, but either way, they're over. They brought me to where I am now and will forever be a part of my story, the one that God is writing with my life, but they are sort of packed up for now. I'm not dwelling on or interacting with them. 

Then there are those parts of my life that need tender care. There are details that call for my attention, and I need to be cautious with how to handle them. 

And lastly, there seem to be some areas that leave me a little confused. What will it look like to move and trust God with these things? Are they experiences that are ready to become a part of the past...or is there something left? How does one wrap up home and truly relocate to a completely new environment without leaving a little piece behind?

This move has been a longtime coming. I came to the realization that I'd be leaving several months ago. There was no defining moment, but starting in August, I knew that leaving Austin was a possibility,  even if the location was undetermined. That possibility became a most-likely while I was playing in the mountains of Colorado sometime in October. However, even then, I figured that I'd be returning to Denver. I was wrong. By the end of November, it was a definite. And that definite was Atlanta. I was sad, but it didn't feel like I was leaving much behind.

Then I fell in love. I fell in love with the warm weather. I fell in love with live music. I fell in love with community. I fell in love with the food. I fell in love with the culture. I fell in love with Austin. I fell in love with Texas. I fell in love with the Hill Country. My only responsibility for two months was to have fun. And have fun is what I did. 

(Honestly, I think that I was meant to be born independently wealthy; I'm quite good at this not working thing.) 

So now it's sad. It's sad to leave friends. It's sad to start over. I even started dating someone wonderful, of course - God has a ridiculous sense of humor. Saying good-bye to him will be one of the hardest things I have to do this week. 

As I leave these things behind and say good-bye to familiar faces, I'm making room for new people and new adventures. I have a job waiting for me that's a dream come true. I have coworkers that are excited for my arrival. I have students that I will surprise me. I have eyes wide open with high expectations. I expect God to work. I expect relationships to develop. I expect to feel "at home" in this new place. And then this whole "moving to Atlanta" thing might just start to feel real. 

 

Sabbatical

September 15, I told the world, at least my world, that I was leaving my job at the church. I would no longer be the Associate Director of Youth Ministries after three absolutely insanely chaotic and beautiful years. I loved that job, that church and those people more than I thought I could - so much that it hurt, but it was time to leave. Sometimes, the hardest thing is the wisest thing.


Teary-eyed, I wrote a letter to the congregation and started planning three very busy weeks of breakfasts, lunches, coffees and dinner. I spent time with people who had changed me. I spent time with people who made me laugh. I spent time with people who encouraged me. I spent time with people who challenged me. I spent time with people who invited me into their lives with incredible grace. It was a gift.


My last day at work was Wednesday, October 7.


Five days later, on a Monday, I packed up my car and started driving. To Colorado. It was amazing. 30 days at "home." I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I fell asleep at 7 o'clock the first night I was in Colorado Springs. Apparently, I needed it. I laughed, explored and reconnected with community. I was able to participate in a friend's wedding and all the excitement leading up to that. I played with the cutest children in the whole wide world, slept in, read books for fun, ran in the mountains, drank coffee and laughed. A lot.


I returned to Austin for only a few days before heading to Atlanta. Job interview. Youth Ministry Convention. 15 hours back in Texas. Chicago for Thanksgiving.


December.


The two months since I left my job flew past quickly. I blogged daily while I was in Colorado - mostly pictures. But then that faded. Christmas parties, The Broken Spoke and concerts occupied my nights, and errands, working out and lunches filled my days.


In the process of deciding to leave my job, I made a list of all the things that I wanted to do while I was unemployed. I slightly feared getting bored. I wondered how I'd fill my time. There were projects that had been stewing in my mind for years. There were books that I thought I should read. There were potential adventures to be had. There were goals to be met. There was a list. A rather intense list.


It was a fun list. A list about which I was excited. Nonetheless, like so many other times, life unfolded differently. I am continually busy. Fun busy. I am continually looking forward to my days and wondering where the time goes. I thought I'd blog more. Like every day more. But, as you can see, I've barely posted at all since returning to Texas. I'm not sure why or how or what I was thinking. It just didn't happen. At first, that made me a little frustrated with myself. But I'm OK with it because I'm OK with how much time I've had to rest, play and laugh. I have no idea how I fit a job into my life and am actually sleeping in.


Yes, I'm sleeping in.


[For those of you who know me well, sleeping in regularly is actually shocking. Yup. Go figure?!]


With all this time and life, I realized the other day that I'm feeling like "me" again. In the process of stepping back from my last job, someone who is older and wiser told me that he had seen me struggling. I wanted to fight back. I wanted to prove that I was OK. I wanted to show the world that circumstances couldn't negatively effect me like that. But they did. And I was exhausted.


The idea of rest in the Bible is generally referred to as a gift. God didn't set the example after creating the world because He needed it. I mean, after all, he's God. He is not required live within the bounds of the world that He created. He gave us the Sabbath because He knew that we needed it. He knew that we'd be tired. He knew that we'd work hard. He knew that we needed time with Him and physical rejuvenation. He gives us rest.


My situation was unique. Rarely can a 30-year-old, responsible person take four months to not work. God used circumstances I could have never predicted to give this gift of rest. And I am thankful.


But now I'm ready. I'm ready to get back in the race. My feet are positioned on the starting blocks, and I'm starting to crouch down. The gun will blast, and I'll start to run. I have a job. It stats in about three weeks. And I'm excited.


Tears will flow when the good-byes actually happen. There will be hugs and laughter. I'll have a whole new community and city to miss. I'll drive out of town on I35 probably wondering what was thinking when I agreed to move across the country. Again. But it's good. Now that I'm rested up for this next adventure.