Reminiscing

Our old house

Sometimes being an FTW is hard.

A couple days ago I closed my eyes and mentally walked through our old house in Oregon.  I started by taking a walk around the park, getting a cup of coffee at the Panera bread, and watching the ducks on the way back home.  I walked into the house from the garage and through the laundry room, smiling at the ugly, brown-tiled countertops in our refaced kitchen as I passed through.  I walked up the stairs, down the hallway, past the guest bedroom and into Maya's nursery.  I looked around at the room I had so carefully painted and put together for our baby girl.  I walked outside to the back deck and remembered all the get-togethers and wine tasting parties, baby showers and barbeques.  Then I opened the front door, stepped out, and closed it behind me.

I got a little teary.  Okay, maybe I cried a little :)

Don't get me wrong-- I am so happy we are in New Jersey.  I know it's where God has called our family right now.  It doesn't mean that it's not hard sometimes, though.

I can remember my Ebenezer Rocks but after being here for three months I still miss our old church and friends and wine club and coworkers and...

Starting over is hard, isn't it?  Whether it's a new job, joining a new group or learning a new skill, beginning something new is both exciting and hard.  It's beautifully stressful.  The kind of stress that reaps strength and beauty and courage but is scary and intimidating.

Holding on to the happy memories of our life in Oregon but not holding back.  Grateful for New Jersey and all there is here for us!  Thanks for reading.