In the Morning

          In the morning,  there is a lot of activity in our house. The baby is babbling in his crib, waking up his siblings.  The dog is begging to be let out, usually only waking up me (the two older ones are able to sleep through it). If I go outside,  there are ducks quacking in their box, waiting to splash and play in their water. The hens are clucking,  waiting to taste the delicious fresh dew on the grass (always on the other side of the fence). The sounds and activity of the morning are soothing to me. It's like slipping on a soft, fur-lined, leather glove in the crisp autumn air...it's comfy. A friend told me that the top three stressful life events are 1) death of a loved one, 2) divorce, and 3) moving. This time around, I would have to agree. Our move last year didn't stress me out in the least bit. Our move this year has been a much different story. Of these three "stressors", I have personal experience with two. Watching another good friend deal with some custody issues, definitely helps me appreciate that moving is not nearly as stressful. There is the obvious thing they have in common: major change. However, they are all, in my mind, mournable as well. This past Friday, we closed on our house in Illinois.  Charles, my hubby, asked if I was relieved; and I am to an extent...but I wasn't thinking about that in that sense this past Friday.  I was in mourning.  I was sad about the loss of a house that had just started to feel like home. I had other dreams that were never realized there.
           In the mourning, I have slammed my hand down in anger, breaking my mascara wand (poor wand...what did it ever do to deserve such treatment). I hollered several times last week that I missed our old house, and I just about lost it when I still couldn't find our toilet plunger after two days of searching and finding a plugged stink bomb in the basement. Charles has been a safe place to confide my frustration,  and I'm really glad for that.  Crying and expressing my sadness really helps me process things and move on. We have both been frustrated with how challenging this has been to close on this house. We are still renting,  but a new bank is now promising to finance it (one that is cool with crazy people wanting a cozy house with lots of land). The relocation package offered by Charlle's work was sweet, but it still doesn't quite cover all this unforseen drama. Sometimes it feels a little like money poured down the drain. Last Friday (when I was tempted to dress in black and sit in the closet with a "do not disturb" sign posted), I read Mark 14 (I'm in the NT in the Amplified Version). It relates the story of the woman who "wastes" a years salary on pouring perfume on Jesus' feet. Jesus didn't see it as a waste, but as a beautiful offering. It struck me that nothing is wasted on God. I'm not Catholic,  but I really enjoyed a series of talks given on "suffering" last summer by a priest. He repeated over and over the thought of "offering up" our suffering so that it is not wasted. Last Friday,  I struggled,  but I gave up my disappointments and frustrations. I told God I didn't understand,  but that I chose to trust Him. I asked Him to accept this as an offering to Him.
              It's been a week. It's morning again; and instead of feeling waves of sorrow,  I'm feeling some waves of gratitude roll over me. It's been awesome to be around my brother and sister-in-law.  They've made me feel so welcome and already had the kids over for a couple of overnighters. They've helped us plug into an Awana club for the kids to go to and a church (we'll be getting out at least bi-weekly). Also, the people here have been very friendly and kind (except the sherrif department),  and I'm getting used to driving 30 minutes to just about everything.  I found Target this past week, and I was so grateful to find the store where I buy phthalate-free, paraben-free mascara in the same strip mall. The friendly clerk/consultant even introduced me to even better mascara for only a dollar more (it's free of mineral oil, triclosan, sodium lauryl sulfate and synthetic fragrances with a cute little bunny sign on it to denote it is also cruelty free...plus it's made in the USA).
      My mom gave me part of my name based on this verse she read on the day I was born, "...weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning." (Ps. 30:5) I think it's becoming a bit of a reoccurring theme verse for me.
       I don't know if you are suffering or stressed,  but know that nothing is wasted on God. Mourning is tough, but morning is coming.