numbered days

There was the countdown to our wedding day. 6 months became 6 weeks became 6 short days full of friends and family and love.

Then the countdown to moving in with friends, finishing a lease, pinching pennies and working long days to come home, fighting for rest, treasuring time.

Now the final days of this countdown to a looming unknown soon-to-be life. Soon to be starting school (for drew). Soon to be finding work (for me). Soon to be making home in the space so carefully and kindly prepared by new friends.

And the tiresome alreadys.
Already job searching. Already packing. Already tripping over sort-of-packed things. Already stressed about money. Already checking out. Already tired. Already anxious and lonely and curious. Already distracted. Already wondering which will be my last Chicago memory. Already savoring final train rides and views of downtown. Already trying to memorize the faces and sounds of old polish grandmothers on the #56 bus.

In not so many days from today (12 to be exact) will begin the 'so...'s
so...
groceries?
friends?
transit?
job?
church?
so, what time will you be home?
so, have we decided on a cell phone plan yet?
so, how was class?
so, any interviews yet?


My biggest fear? That we won't have answers. That we'll get stuck in some sort of Canadian limbo life, waiting for things to begin. Wishing for another countdown but refusing to begin the 102 week paper chain, begging for the next thing.

I want to be fully present to this time, to these experiences and possibilities. To have more hope in my heart and peace to share. But what if...

what if Drew and I fail each other?
what if we're angry and lonely and miserable?
what if we forget about grace?
what if we don't make friends?
what if he hates school and
what if he can't find a job after?
what if we have a kid too soon?
what if we can't have kids?
what if I get lost on the subway and don't have a phone and get totally lost and can't remember our address and drew has night class and doesn't notice me missing until well after dark? (this is real life friends. I need one of those dog-tracker things.)

What if I waste so much time thinking and forget to do? What if I miss out on what God is doing, What he's welcoming me (us) into, that I keep myself (or, even scarier, us) from growth, from grace, from goodness?

Well, friends, my resolve for this new season, or this continuation of a season of transition and change and uncertainty, is to be certain. Most certain of the things I know certainly and beyond doubt.

Absurd grace. Abundant hope. Abounding joy.

Learning love with my husband will root us down, carving a foundation of life together
Reveling in grace again that births joy when we find cracks that need repair and work on them together, with our beloved creator
Laughter will fill in the loose boards and keep out the cold winds of the great white north and the frost fears of newness and change
I'll bake warm pumpkin bread and almond bars to wrap us up in thoughts of old homes and dreams for the one we're making together
We'll put books on shelves, photographs on walls, things in their place - all will remind us that we're led by a faithful leader toward our home. A home prepared for us. A place of rest and truth and not of fear.

So, I embrace these final days with a renewed expectancy. What will come next? How will He provide? What will He invite us into?

your will be done, oh faithful One.



now, who wants to help me pack!?