Saturday, September 24, 2011
first day of fall
I can't believe it's Friday. I can't believe it's the second to last Friday in September. I can't believe it's September. I can't believe summer is over. How many different ways can I say this summer flew by? This summer flew by. Goodness, September 23rd, first day of fall, hello, how are you? Oh goodness, I can't believe it's fall.
What's new? Moving. It's a funny feeling.
It's interesting because at a time like this, with so much change, plenty to think about, I have to force myself to write about it. I really don't feel like thinking about it to the point where I can read it. And as a result, I spend my time looking for jobs or sewing pillows or doing something else. Typical distractions.
It's hard and it's not hard. Moving, that is. I'm not crying everyday, but I'm in that stretching kind of season, away from family, being more independent (but not really, I need Logan more than ever), uncertainty of jobs phase, trying to find places and friends that continue to inspire me to live with meaning, trusting God with my worried head. Thus, it isn't easy, a little awkward. The marriage part is fun, really fun. That's good news.
What have I done this first week in Jersey? A lot and not a lot. Logan keeps telling me to relax - it's okay for me to have a break until I get a job. He's right. In some ways, summer wasn't really a break. We were always going somewhere or doing something. It's not easy for me to sit still. And at the same time, it's been hard to be adventurous because highway 1 and roundabouts are scary. I'll learn, sometime, soon. I hope.
This week, I am thankful for friendly neighbors who ask me to babysit their kids (since I still don't have a job, did I mention that already?) and invite Logan and I for tea, for birthday parties and a new friend (I hope) who assured me of her insecurities of moving, for sushi and a trip to New York City for passports, for a home to make chocolate chip cookies and pumpkin muffins, for skype with friends and phone calls with family, for Logan and our new home.
I miss the old, but I'm certain the more I try to hold on to it, the less my hands are open to what God has planned for Logan and I here in New Jersey. Hands opening. Oh my, the leaves are falling.
(photo via Cherilyn Kurtz)