Saying goodbye to familiar.
Transition is hard for me.
comfort in the familiar,
sacredness in the routine,
holiness in the ritual of everyday.
Even when it's hard, I tend to cling to what I know, rather than trusting that the new, the different might be easier or even better.
I wallow in the mud puddle, because I know every inch of that space, even though there's a crystal clear lake just a few yards away.
This go around, instead of rushing through the uncomfortableness of change till it feels pleasant again, or even just recognizable, I'm trying to sit with my uncomfortableness:
be fully present
Help me head for the lake! Let me be refreshed by the cool, clear water.I pray. As I pour over God with my mug of coffee and breakfast.
788. Painted fingers.
789. Date night.
790. Little girls Swiffering the floors.
791. Dancing girls.
792. 18 months.
793. Coffee, breakfast and a book three days in a row.
794. Slowing down.
795. Finding thankfulness admist transtion.
796. Dinner at Farmhaus.
797. Girls going to the nursery at church with no tears.
798. Wonderful, supportive, understanding, patient (mostly with me) nursery staff.
799. Sitting in church with Brad.
800. Girls playing with make-up brushes.
801. The girls getting over their fear of Howard.
802. Peaceful end.