Okay, that's a little extreme, I admit it. But honestly when I sat down to write tonight, that's the first phrase that came to mind.
Just had a really good processing/debriefing/reflecting/prayer time with Mr. Squire and God just now. I really needed it. Day to day, when we're at home bumming around and just trying to get to know our way around the beautiful neighborhood and mapping out new meals to add to our dinner rotation, it's not so bad. Life in the capsule of just Daddy and Junior is pretty awesome, I'm not gonna lie. Funny, endlessly entertaining husband, and a super-cute and super-snuggly baby who is just learning to stand and gets her hands on everything. Plus a 250-meter swim in the outdoor lap pool under the vast blue sky in the afternoons. Not. Bad. At. All.
But Sundays...Sundays are really tough here. I am reminded of how alone we are. I miss my brothers and sisters from our home church. I miss their love, care, concern, presence, and company. I miss seeing how the pregger sisters are doing, and catching up with the new moms, and learning from the old ones. I miss giving and receiving encouragement, from heart to beloved heart. I miss our routine of driving into the City, hoping and circling for a parking spot (and finally getting one!), attending prayer meeting, scavenging for snacks at the welcome table, catching up with people before service, bopping to the worship with Junior and other moms with babies, going through service and learning from the messages (which have gotten a lot better in recent years), and catching up with people after service. I just miss doing life with my community, my family. They're gone.
Monday through Saturday, it's easy to feel that we're just on one big vacation (especially since I haven't started work yet). But on Sunday, as we visit other churches, I am reminded that this is permanent. And then I think to myself, what have I done?! My heart sinks. It gets sad. I begin to feel lost. I start to cry on the inside. I sort of drown in the quicksand of regret. At some point, I kind of snap out of it as I remind myself, God led us here. This is what we prayed for. This is what He gave us. God brought us here. He has a plan. He will provide. Don't long for Egypt, don't wish for a return to slavery. You don't know what God will do. You've only been here for a few days! Community takes time. God will provide. God has a plan. Don't be foolish; trust in Him! Rejoice and give thanks. God brought us here.
It makes me feel better for a time, but only a time. So today when we got back from church, I had me a good chat and cry with God. I confessed my fear, my lack of trust, my lack of gratitude, how easily I have forgotten and discounted His provision. Thankfully God is a good Father who disciplines and loves and forgives. I believe He will be patient with me as I grow, and He wants me to grow -- and He will help me grow. But growing is tough, and it takes work and effort and time. I've forgotten how hard it is to start over. Apart from my student days, I've never actually started over in a place without any friends (although now I have my own family, and that certainly helps a ton). It's hard! And lonely. A good reminder that God is our help, though. Always our help and loving Father.
On to our second full week here.
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