three..

I have been obtusely aware we are coming up on 3 years in Terrace. I can’t escape it actually, Facebook has been assaulting me for weeks with “memories”. I have been shown pictures of “last time” and “moving in” and “living with”, and I recall what is was like to pack under a cloud of denial, weeping and angry of the financial hit we took in selling our townhouse. Deep breathing at living with my sister and her family for 3 weeks while navigating the long good-bye. We weren’t homeless but we also weren’t really “living” anywhere. Neither here nor there, we were in subspace, limbo, wait, wait, wait.

It was - not easy. It was emotionally exhausting. And even when we finally got here we discovered a lot of us - what made us US was still in Vancouver. I had no idea my identity, or my perceived identity of us was wrapped up in where we lived, where I came from. Part of us, most of me, was still in Vancouver. Partly because our family is there but also because we hadn’t fully embraced living here.

I have not been able to let go of how things were and how those things, and only those things could identify me. 

Clearly I am still working through this because I began to weep as I wrote those words. 

While I still am holding onto the breath of those feelings I am finding my way through feeling the subspace tension again. Looking at 3 years here, it is no longer new. Brad is no longer in the “honeymoon” phase of ministry. There is this twist of “We’ve only been here three years” - wow, that went by fast, and “You’ve been there three years already?”, as if to say - what do you have to show for it? It’s akin to the half filled half empty glass. I’ll be honest, I had some expectations for myself and the church and Brad and I know they haven’t happened because I have dragged my feet, emotionally speaking. I hunkered down to ride out the storm instead of climbing to the deck and turning my face into it. I know if I had embraced things quicker I’d be in a different place. It’s hard. 

No. 

It’s impossible to receive the blessings of God when you have your back turned to Him.

This new level of subspace comes with changes for our family in the next few months that will have a profound impact on our household rhythms, challenge our emotional capabilities, stretch our patience with each other. spread our grace thin. It has already begun. Iain started pre-school this year and heads to Kindergarten in the fall. Carlon has struggled with social skills at school and church even and has not really been able to connect with anyone the way he’d like. Noah the introvert has had to navigate being at school every day all day. And I am battling the questions of “what’s next for me?” and “where do I fit in?” The boys at least have the benefit of not generally sitting on their asses questioning the in between.

I guess I have been holding my breath the last three years. I took a deep plunging breath of home before we left and I’ve been holding it in all this time. But now it feels like I’m slowly exhaling. And now I’m already thinking, do I need to take another deep breath to hold? Or can I just go to measured breathing. I am still in the neither here nor there, but I think this time it is because there is nothing before me that needs to be tackled. No mountain to climb, no puzzle to solve, no jungle to machete through, at least not obviously. Earlier this year God called me to wait on him, and it has been my life experience that whenever he has called me to wait it precedes a big life change or upheaval. Maybe that’s why I don’t know how to breathe. I am discovering how difficult it is to wait. Maybe I’m doing it wrong.