Roots

Not all who wander are lost.

— J.R.R Tolkien

Ever since I graduated from high school, it seems that I inadvertently entered a nomadic season. Of course, I prefer the term adventure. Watching God’s plan for my life unfold is both exciting and a bit overwhelming at times. In the past nine years, I have lived in nine different cities. (By now, I should really be an expert at packing!) Although I love adventure, I somehow envisioned that my husband and I would own a house by the time we had kids because, as much as I have grown through each move, I long to provide roots for my children. Nevertheless, we remain in a season of waiting. Waiting for God to plant us in a church. Waiting for God to guide us after my husband graduates from his physical therapy program. Waiting to find the right community, the right job, the right house. In the waiting, it can be easy to focus on the seemingly evident lack of roots. However, when I focus on the constant changes, I lose sight of the One who never changes. I also minimize the roses that I have relished as a result of each move. Friendships that stretch the distance. A marriage that has only grown stronger from the unknown. Motherhood. Family that is incredibly supportive. Sweet blessings that appear at perfectly random times in the most appropriate of ways. Indeed, God provides. So, while part of me is impatient to settle down and immerse myself in a community without wondering if God will lead our family elsewhere, I am learning to appreciate this season of adventure because, as an iconic author once observed,

It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters in the end.

– Ernest Hemingway

This is the first post on my new blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates.