There's an adrenaline rush that fills your body after you move.
Boxes need to be dismantled;
Kids need to be enrolled in school;
Kids need a lot of extra things and they do come first.
Soon, that adrenaline rush gives way to quiet.
Somehow, quiet hurts. It reminds you of what was. Quiet reminds you of the emptiness you feel. You start to miss familiar sights, faces and spaces.
Every time we move, I remember the advice one of my mentors gave me. She told me it takes around 3 months to get settled. I already started to countdown to the end of this transition period.
It is my belief that we go through 3 phases: transition (3 months), adaptation (1-2 years) and discovery.
Today, I find solace and comfort in the assurance that this phase won't last aways. I am also encouraged by the things I can do. It is easy to focus on what I can't do.
I can call a friend - hearing their voices and speaking the truth of what I feel has been really helpful.
I can see a friend - in person. I found a group of runners I see a couple times a week. We are connected with a small group at church. I also connect with people for coffee or lunch. Seeing people face-to-face has really helped me manage this transition.
While I wish I could run and eat all day, I can't. I also can't read the Bible and pray all day (I do it first thing in the morning though). I am aware that at some point, these feelings will fade.
It's been 4 months and now I have a job.
I have a new routine. The kids are enrolled and loving school. They still come first.
The adrenaline rush gave way to quiet.
Quiet still hurts.
I try to think of the few people who care enough not to give up on our friendship.
I try to think of the many people who like me, are new in town and need a friend.
I try to think that regardless of how I feel, God knows what He is doing.
Boxes are now a memory. Okay, I still have a few.
I still have strong memories of what was. It is as if I don't want to let go.
I remember missing North Caroline in the Fall. I think of my friends and my time there. I treasure those memories and I pray I can travel there and see everyone. Forgetting such lovely time is a disservice to all the good life we lived there.
I feel the same thing about our Houston years. Why try to forget about a place that I loved so deeply? It doesn't make sense at all.
I know all of these feelings will eventually even out. Houston will be a sweet memory, kinda like the North Carolina years are a sweet sweet memory.
Moving from place to place is not easy. Knowing that God has a purpose and a plan makes everything better.
Boxes need to be dismantled;
Kids need to be enrolled in school;
Kids need a lot of extra things and they do come first.
Soon, that adrenaline rush gives way to quiet.
Somehow, quiet hurts. It reminds you of what was. Quiet reminds you of the emptiness you feel. You start to miss familiar sights, faces and spaces.
Every time we move, I remember the advice one of my mentors gave me. She told me it takes around 3 months to get settled. I already started to countdown to the end of this transition period.
It is my belief that we go through 3 phases: transition (3 months), adaptation (1-2 years) and discovery.
Today, I find solace and comfort in the assurance that this phase won't last aways. I am also encouraged by the things I can do. It is easy to focus on what I can't do.
I can call a friend - hearing their voices and speaking the truth of what I feel has been really helpful.
I can see a friend - in person. I found a group of runners I see a couple times a week. We are connected with a small group at church. I also connect with people for coffee or lunch. Seeing people face-to-face has really helped me manage this transition.
While I wish I could run and eat all day, I can't. I also can't read the Bible and pray all day (I do it first thing in the morning though). I am aware that at some point, these feelings will fade.
It's been 4 months and now I have a job.
I have a new routine. The kids are enrolled and loving school. They still come first.
The adrenaline rush gave way to quiet.
Quiet still hurts.
I try to think of the few people who care enough not to give up on our friendship.
I try to think of the many people who like me, are new in town and need a friend.
I try to think that regardless of how I feel, God knows what He is doing.
Boxes are now a memory. Okay, I still have a few.
I still have strong memories of what was. It is as if I don't want to let go.
I remember missing North Caroline in the Fall. I think of my friends and my time there. I treasure those memories and I pray I can travel there and see everyone. Forgetting such lovely time is a disservice to all the good life we lived there.
I feel the same thing about our Houston years. Why try to forget about a place that I loved so deeply? It doesn't make sense at all.
I know all of these feelings will eventually even out. Houston will be a sweet memory, kinda like the North Carolina years are a sweet sweet memory.
Moving from place to place is not easy. Knowing that God has a purpose and a plan makes everything better.
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