Musical Chairs

The game sounds nice, but, you see, I am not really a musical chairs kinda gal. While I might have fun at an innocent game or two, the premise actually is pretty stressful for me. Find a place to sit; find it quickly before anyone else can take it;  a place that is your own; a place to hunker down and be comfy; somewhere to sit with assurance while those around you scramble to find purchase on a sanctuary. I like to know what I have is mine. It brings me joy to have control over my surroundings so I can alter them to best meet my needs, and also be as aesthetically pleasing to my eye as possible. I don’t really want to flit from place to place.  I don't like to rent or borrow.  I don't want to intrude, and I don't want to be a burden.  I hate feeling like I am in competition for anything.  I don't really enjoy the process of uprooting and relocating.  I would be happy to settle down in the house of my dreams and be there till I meet the Maker (with some great vacations scattered about, mind you).


So here I am now, basically homeless. I have a place to live, a place to store my stuff, and a place for my kids to sleep safely in peace - but, it is not mine. A lot of “my” things are in boxes, my family of six is lined up like sardines in two bedrooms upstairs, and I have to adjust to having people around all the time. These things are not all bad but do require some concessions, growing in patience, and dying to what my selfish self wants.

I do believe we are on a new chapter of “Charity’s total makeover”, but this one doesn’t involve hair and makeup. God has been pruning my soul, turning diamonds to coal, and forcing me to do without. Really, I am thrilled about it. I truly am. In the quiet moments when the Spirit is near I realize that this is exactly what I need. I do not, however, always have a great attitude about it. It is so satisfying to be selfish and discontent at times. It is easy to give into the anger and frustration when you aren’t allowed full access to what you are most accustomed too.

I spent many days of the last year and a half wondering if I would loose my spouse and then have to function as a single mom. I had to sell a home I loved. My schedule became crazy and I could not just stay home to snuggle my newborn. I had to pack her up and haul her to multiple doctor appointments and visits to the hospital with her three wild brothers in tow at times too. I was forced to rely on others. This required letting people into my life to see what I usually keep private. Then, I had to pack up and leave my new family of five years. I had to leave place I had grown to love but could no longer stay in.

I thought the move home would be the stress reliever I needed. That God, I tell ya, He has so much up His sleeve. They are big sleeves you know. He knows I am thrilled to see my family often and that there are certain things about home that cannot be found anywhere else. But He knows that I only made it through phase one of the current makeover during the last 17 months. Phase two is going to require me to detach form some things that I had convinced myself to hold tightly too. The good news: the hard work will lead to a great payoff. The bad news: dealing with more change.

I will not run about wildly, dashing my friends to the ground in order to lay claim to a chair. Seems a bit like the mad land rushes in the 1800’s. I would rather just take my chair privately out somewhere where I can feel the breeze and hear the birds. I’ve got some soul searching to do, some fists to unclench, and some ideals to restructure. 

Excuse me, I think I hear the music starting...

Going West...

The end of my five years in Tennessee snuck up on me out of the chaos of the last year. I had dreamed of returning west many times, but finally saying goodbye was harder than I thought. Moving weekend took me to the limits of my stress tolerance. I haven’t been there in awhile. What to keep, what to get rid of, how to pack it, helping the kids with their stress, worrying about Chris’ ability to help out, having to ask others for assistance again, and protecting my baby girl from absorbing too much out of the tense atmosphere. All of that is a lot for an emotional girl to handle.


Overcome with a myriad of emotions, I noticed the beautiful way Tennessee said goodbye to us as we headed west on I 40. A tangerine sun hung from gray-purple clouds. With only the southern hemisphere visible it appeared more like a reflection in a lake. It was dusk, and the fading light mimicked our fading time there. The trees seemed thicker and closer, their green leaves loosing color in the shadows. Billowy folds of mist were flowing over the canopy. Creeping tendrils reached down like fingers towards the base of the trees that bordered the road. It was some of God’s best handiwork.

The following day Kansas greeted us. The greeting was also beautiful, but volatile. Sprawling emerald pastures speckled with bovines and rippling wheat fields stretched for miles. The golden grain will be ready for harvest soon. You can see, and see, and see forever. In the distance, a thunderhead. We approach it as it builds, seeing the unrest in the atmosphere above us. Different shades of white, gray, black, and deep blue-purple swirl in the clouds. An indigo wall cloud, immense and intimidating, seems to take up our entire view out the left window. Pelting rain, gusting winds, exploding masses of hot and cold air - spring in the Midwest. We made it through the storm and arrived safely at home, or at least where we will be staying for the time being. We don’t really have a home currently. But God is good - we left Tennessee with all six of us together. Though we still face a lot of unknown, we have the privilege of waiting in the blessings and promises of God as He prepares us for the next chapter.

Photo by Joshua Ayres

joshuaayresphotography.blogspot.com