Moving in the Rain
It had been
raining all day. California is experiencing a drought, but on the day we needed
to move, it rained.
We had 3
days to pack up and move. (3 days!!! I may have even needed to resort to
throwing all our clothes onto blankets, rolling the blankets and throwing the
blanket-wrapped clothes heap into the u-haul. Desperate times, desperate
measures.) We ended up moving in with my parents short-term while we wait to
buy a house. I think the combination of knowing how difficult it would be to
move a family of four into my parents’ house plus the sheer enormity of the
task of packing an entire house on short notice had me varying between taking lots
of deep breaths, pacing, praying, and occasionally leaking tears.
After a long
day of moving, I was sitting in my car driving my daughter to what we would
call home for a few months. I was wet to my skin after walking through a downpour to the car. Five minutes into our drive, the clouds
broke and it was as though the rain had wiped the sky crystal clear. We saw constellations and all the little in-between
stars.
Addy began
to sing a song of her own making. “Let them glow. Let them glow. The stars are
beautiful. God put them in the sky for us. Let them glow…”
I was quiet,
content to listen, savoring her fleeting youth. After a while I said, “Oh. I
like that song, Addy. Can we sing it again tomorrow?”
Then Addy
said something rather profound. “No, Mom. This
is the song for today. I can’t sing it a different day. Each day gets a new
song.”
This is the day that the Lord has made. I
will rejoice and be glad in it.
This day,
this hard day, where I feel stretched to breaking…
This day, this
Jonah day where I can know change is upon me, not just nipping at my heels but
overtaking me…
This day has
a song worth singing.
This day has
gifts that can only be found and received today.
Warm California rain sliding down my skin.
The smell of damp earth and mustard flowers carried in on the wind.
The sight of a tulip tree through rain drenched stairs.
A former intern and dear little sister in Christ coming to watch my kids and her wanting to spend the whole rest of the day with me, even in my frazzled state.
Being present to hear an Addy original song.
Generous parents. A place to stay on short
notice. Knowing I could be packing up a house for the last time in a good long
while…
As we turned onto the bridge that would take us to our temporary home, I thought of how much
my life feels up in the air, out of my grasp. A place to live, a church to call
home… all up in the air, beyond my control, just floating there out of
reach. I long for things to settle. I
long for things to stop changing.
The grand adventure Christ leads us on asks
us to pick up our cross daily, asks us to lay down our life, asks us to live
unsettled. I place my life in Christ’s hands and then it’s no longer in my
hands. (Profound, I know.)
Each day we
change. Those babies that used to fit so sweetly under the crook of my neck
have expanded the length of my arms and are not so easy to hold anymore. In the
span of one year, we have now moved twice, my husband has become a cop, I have
become a cop’s wife, our church has moved… so.much.change.
Yet the Lord is here, with me. Each day is different and new. Sometimes we change in subtle shades and sometimes the Master dips the
brush into a new color and paints with bold, surprising strokes on what might
have seemed a monotonous canvas.
Whether changes
are subtle or surprising, God is here. And He is good.
This day is
the day that the Lord has made. And I can
rejoice in it.
Each day
gets a new song and I will sing it.
By Grace,
Amanda
Conquers