Thank you for your great participation in the Drop Everything and Encourage Day Challenge! (D.E.E.D.). The winner of the Dayspring pack of cards is…… Charmie!!
Sandra posted a link to the “Random acts of Kindness Plate” in the comments as a great idea to encourage someone. It’s super creative and easy to do. I’m thinking about trying it for next month (which will fit into the theme for May perfectly!). How have you all been doing? I mailed out cards. I’m sending out a newsletter Tuesday morning with 3 ways to encourage others. If you haven’t signed up for my newsletter, you can enter your e-mail address here:
In other news, I’m so excited to be on the radio program Survival Skills for Everyday Living this week discussing the principle of sowing on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. You can catch the podcasts of the show on this page (they will post every day after the show airs). And I’m also giving away a copy of Isn’t it Time for a Coffee Break? on their blog this week.
Moving is hard. It’s not just the packing and unpacking and lugging furniture around that’s hard. Major moves take a toll on your emotions and your spirit.
Since high school graduation, I’ve lived in three different states in at least five different towns. To some people that’s not many places. To others who may have lived in the same state or vicinity their whole life, it’s a lot.
When I was younger, I loved the adventure of starting over and meeting new people. When we moved to Florida, it was emotional and challenging, but I was thrilled at all the potential the move held.
Exactly four years ago, we moved back to Michigan from Florida. To be completely honest, I still haven’t recovered from that move. I’m not sure I ever will.
Don’t get me wrong — I’m happy to be back in Michigan. It’s been a joy to re-connect with old friends and make new ones. I love the school our kids are in, and I adore our small town. It’s been nice to be closer to family and share life with them. For the past couple years the kids and I have spent spring break with my parents in Ohio, just hanging out. We couldn’t have done that if we still lived in Florida.
But after four years, my heart still aches. I miss my Florida friends. I miss the community. I miss our pizza parties. The ache doesn’t seem to be lessening.
Have you ever moved a plant from one yard to another, or one section of the yard to another? There are two things I’ve noticed about transplanting my landscaping that seem to apply to when we transplant our lives from one city or state to another.
You never get all the roots.
Or at least I don’t. No matter how deep I dig or how wide a circle I dig around the plant, I know I cut off some of the roots and leave them behind.
You always take some of the old soil with you.
It’s impossible to shake all the dirt off the roots so that you are only taking the dirt and roots to the new location. Pieces of the old location always remain with the plant, mixing and mingling with the new soil to create a new life for the plant.
And so it seems to be with life when we uproot ourselves and move to another location. We never take all our roots with us. We always leave a piece of us behind with those we love. There are parts of our lives that can never be repeated in a new location with new friends. For me, the pregnancies and births of my two children will always remain special and located in the hearts of the people I shared that with in Florida. The care they showed through meals and visiting and loving on us during those days can’t be repeated or forgotten. My battle and beginning victories with anxiety will always remain rooted in a peachish-pink house in Florida with conversations over the phone and coffee with dear people there.
We always take some of the soil with us. Who we are today is shaped by the places we have lived and the experiences we shared with the precious people we’ve left behind. The soil of those experiences mix with our new location and new friends. We keep growing, but the past is always with us. The two can mix and create a strong, healthy life.
While I often still feel like a wilting plant in shock, trying to establish my new roots, I’m thankful for the mingling of these soils. I’m grateful for the experiences held in that move to Florida and how they shaped the material in “Isn’t it Time for a Coffee Break?” I’m thankful for the move back to Michigan and the experiences we share with new friends and our families. It’s not the same. But it shouldn’t be. Each soil has different properties to help us grow for different purposes.
So thank you to all of you in all the various soils of my life. Thank you for how you have sowed into my life. I carry you with me always — in my heart and in my prayers and in my stories.