Time Raveler

Change Happens Anyway

Due to the unwanted divorce, sometime around the end of the year I will be moving from the home where I've lived for decades into a condominium, much smaller than this.   This house, on the other hand, has an outbuilding, an attic, a garage, all full of items.  As a dear friend pointed out to me, "You only have a few months; you need to start getting rid of things."

I learned long ago that it's just "stuff."  God can replace it if I need it down the road.  Harder than divesting myself of the stuff is divesting myself of the place itself.  I invested myself in this home, raised my kids here, planted trees and shrubs and flowers and herbs, decorated, remodeled, planned, dreamed.  Dreamed of having grandchildren delight in the big yard and the chickens and cats, my over-the-top holiday decorations, and the cakes and cookies I would love to make with them, but that particular dream won't happen here for me.

So now I am realizing that this is the last spring in this home, and I'm starting to say goodbye to it with each season.  The sweetness of the pink jasmine bloom came and went, but is now  replaced by the night blooming jasmine going full tilt, scenting the entire neighborhood in one huge exaltation of perfume.  The gardenias and roses also delight.

Bittersweet, this recognition of loss.  But I trust God for my tomorrows, for new things that He can only do if I let go of the old things.  I'm ready, or at least, I'm getting ready.