I'd be lying if I said this wasn't one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. Placing memories one by one in a box and then into storage until there is a place for them to be used once more-- either in my future home or my brother and future sister-in-law's house. As I pick each item up from the shelf, the memories come back. Playing Barbies in a carousel music box, driving the trolley up and down the coffee table, snuggling under the orange down comforter or the cloud blankets, sitting on the counter to update the angel calendar, making the perfect 'pankers' or 'tricks' on the island in the kitchen, hanging the Christmas lights in the windows each Christmas and making sure Baby Jesus was in the right spot in the manger, and so much more. This house holds memories upon memories and boxing them up just feels wrong.
More than memories, this house holds connections. The final connection to my late grandmother who was more like a mother than a grandmother to me, the final tie keeping my grandfather home and not moving with his new wife and her family, the final connection to how I always pictured my life. Growing up I always talked about moving into my grandparents' house with a husband and starting a family of my own, making new memories in the place that I called my second home. But, life happened. My grandmother passed away, my grandfather remarried, I moved a little further south, and my brother is now engaged to be married this spring. So much has changed so quickly, I long to hold on to the past where things were simpler and much easier to understand. Where the hardest decision was what perfect outfit I was going to wear on my first day of school and not how to handle a new crisis at work that I never imagined happening. None of us expected life to look like it did at this stage of life, yet, it does. Though my temptation is to spend the days begging God to answer the giant list of "why?" questions I have, I know I won't get all the answers. I know I can't go back to the simpler days. I know life is EXACTLY how it's supposed to be. God has promised that He will work everything together for my good. He is in complete control over my life and doesn't allow anything to happen that will not bring Him the greatest glory and be the best good for my life. Even if it doesn't feel good in the moment, I need my brain to tell my heart that it is good. I'm tempted to fear, though, that without these material things, the connections will be lost, the memories will fade, people will drift apart. So, I find myself splurging on new 'things' in the hopes that the memories and connections made with new materials and new people will provide some relief from the tears, the pain, the hurt...
But, it is God-shaped hole, not a materialistic hole so I cannot fill it with things. I can only fill it with the one who perfectly mends holes and repairs broken hearts. I need to spend this season digging deeper into my Bible and searching for promises from God, trusting each one. People fail, things break, material possessions mean nothing... but, the everlasting God that holds the Universe in the palm of His hands controls it all, reigns supreme, and orchestrates all for the good of His people and His everlasting glory.
Though, through it all, it never fails to amaze me how connected we can get to material things-- things that will disappear, things that we cannot take with us, things that are fragile and will break, etc. In Matthew 6, the Bible says, "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." I don't want my treasure to be on earth. I don't want to store up a collection on earth where moth and rust will destroy. I want to live simply. I want to live generously. I want to lavish love on those around me, not things.
So, as we continue packing boxes, item by item, I will let the tears fall. I will let their saltiness burn my cheeks, stain my shirt, and begin to heal my wounds. I will praise God for the memories that this beloved house holds. I will thank Him for the precious times spent with loved ones. I will pray to trust Him wholeheartedly with my future, not clinging to the past. Clinging to the past only makes turning the page on the future even harder. I don't like not knowing what the next chapter holds. But, I do take a lot of comfort in the fact that the One who holds the future has known what the next chapter, the next page, the next sentence will hold since the beginning of time-- before the world was created. It's not an easy season of life, but it is for my good. It is for HIS glory. What else can I ask for? The sale on the house will be finalized soon and I will not set foot in it's door again. The door to the past is closed, the door to the future wide open with God standing at the door, hand outstretched, beckoning me in to trust His plan wholly. My agenda book may be empty, but His is filled, waiting to unfold.
As 2017 becomes 2018, I will dig in to the Scriptures. Ground myself and my identity in Him, His word, His truths. I will sit in His silence and listen. I will be still and not fill my life with busyness to hide from the pain, confusion, and emotion. I need to process the emotions and thoughts as they come. Here's to a new chapter, a new season of embracing change and trusting an unknown future to a known God.
May 2018 be filled with many blessings and joy for you and your loved ones.
Warmly,
Danielle
