Two weekends ago, we moved out of the only place we have lived since we got married over ten years ago (minus the six days we lived with my mom after our honeymoon) and into, not just a whole new city, but a whole new county.  Out of those ten plus years, we were managers of that apartment complex for almost nine of them.  It was both a blessing and a curse to have been the managers.  By the end of it all, it mostly felt like a curse.

This last year has been the most difficult year of my life.  There were times that 2017 felt merciless and cruel.  Both personally and as a family, there was hit after hit and for a while it felt like there was no breather between.  To add to the weight of that, we had the burden of managing the complex in the midst of my husband working his full time job (6/12s) and trying to recover from our personal trauma.  I can’t wait to be rid of 2017.

To be fair, my beautiful niece was born in 2017 so it wasn’t all terrible.  (Auntie loves you, beastie!)

This move was necessary.  We needed to be away from the complex and away from our city and the mess that was tied to it.  We needed a clean slate.  And I’m grateful for it.  I’m grateful for the change of scenery, the fact that no one will be knocking on my door or blowing up my phone all hours of the day and night, being able to really have a fresh start with the people my heart loves most in the world.  That much change in the middle of the turmoil also brought on an overwhelming amount of feelings and emotions and anxiety that I couldn’t control.  For a recovering control freak, that’s terrifying…

I found myself hyperventilating and having full blown anxiety attacks out of nowhere and over things that were absolutely ridiculous (i.e. chipped toe nail polish or running out of salt).  I cried hysterically one night over the thought of leaving the place where I gave birth to my son (in case you didn’t know, my son was born in my bathroom which was very much unplanned).  I was a mess over leaving the place that we’ve been for our whole marriage, the place where I moved my sister upstairs from me so I could be close to her and my niece, the place where we had moved several friends into and got to have them close for spontaneous visits.  I was a mess because I was going to (what felt like) somewhere so far away from all of our people.  I was going to be alone during the day with nothing but my thoughts and feelings that I hadn’t fully processed yet because I had the distraction of the complex and babysitting my niece.  I was a mess because we were without a few people that I didn’t want to give up – some had to move away and some there was a severed connection.  My whole world was turn upside down and inside out.

Spring cannot come without a barren season.  Up until the last few days, I hadn’t really been able to believe or trust that.  There are moments that I still have a hard time believing that.  But like a sprout emerging from the dirt, I feel the hope of that rising up in me.  Hope.  Something I haven’t felt for so long.  Another friend that I thought I lost.  And in this new city, this new home, this newly arriving season, Hope and I are being reacquainted.  I’m starting to learn to breathe again.  There are still hard moments.  There are still things that I am processing.  There are things that I am learning and relearning.  There is 2018 waiting on the horizon, beaming with hope, newness, life, restoration, connection, creativity, victory, new songs, and streams in the wasteland.  I’m ready and expectant for it.  Here’s to 2018 and all the beauty (and coffee) it will bring.  Happy New Year, friends! ❤