For a single woman still attending school I have a whole lot of crap.
People have told me this (okay, my father has told me this every time he has to help me move), but I didn't really realize it until I started packing this time around. I think I have had to purge about six boxes worth of things... at least.
Anyway, I am taking a break from packing because I am hoping that by writing this post I will get some clarity into my head.
My sister left today to visit her boyfriend's family and to see our family and she will be gone for a few days. Now, I don't mind being alone; in fact, I relish solitude. But today is a bit of a rough day. I went for coffee with a friend this afternoon and had to say good-bye. While I will still see her over the summer, it was hard to know that our weekly movie nights are done, or our random photo shoots. I had lunch on Monday with other friends and had to say a few more good-byes.
A few posts ago I mentioned how I felt like God was closing a chapter in my life and beginning a new one. I talked about the excitement I was feeling over it. Today I think I am in mourning.
Purging boxes means that I have to go through everything in them and decide what to keep. Some, like the pin my grade six French teacher gave me when I left the Arctic, were easy to throw away. Others were easy but caused a lot of pain. I found birthday cards from people that stirred up so many memories. I remembered past church involvement, how during that time I received cards signed with "Love." Which made me think of the pain and sorrow that accompanied leaving that church. I found pictures students had drawn for me over the last seven years while I was working in schools. I even found the amauti that my parents had had made for me when we were living in the North (this is a parka with a large hood. Women would keep their babies in the hood because it would keep them warmer. Mine was a five year old version that I could carry my dolls around in).
I have cried so many times today it isn't funny.
I finished packing my room and moved into the kitchen. As I started putting mixing bowls, tea towels, and wine glasses into boxes I was reminded of the instances behind each of their arrival in my possession. Some were gifts when I had first moved out on my own. Some were garage sale purchases with friends that I had once been incredibly close with and who I now have very little contact. Before I knew it was I sitting on my kitchen floor and the tears were flowing again.
Trust me, I know this sounds incredibly pathetic. In fact, I know it is pathetic.
I feel like a door is being shut. I don't know what door that is, and maybe that is why I feel as if I am mourning. Don't get me wrong, I'm still incredibly excited for whatever new adventure God has in store for me. But I also feel like some part of my life is coming to an end. And that is sad.
And so I shall pack some more boxes, cry some more tears, and smile at a few more memories. I will push through this. I will try to keep myself occupied (my home has truly never felt more empty and quiet than it does right now).
But above all I will try to trust and hope that God has this whole adventure thing worked out. He hasn't left me yet, and I know He isn't going to leave me.
Such is the life of a Christian single.
People have told me this (okay, my father has told me this every time he has to help me move), but I didn't really realize it until I started packing this time around. I think I have had to purge about six boxes worth of things... at least.
Anyway, I am taking a break from packing because I am hoping that by writing this post I will get some clarity into my head.
My sister left today to visit her boyfriend's family and to see our family and she will be gone for a few days. Now, I don't mind being alone; in fact, I relish solitude. But today is a bit of a rough day. I went for coffee with a friend this afternoon and had to say good-bye. While I will still see her over the summer, it was hard to know that our weekly movie nights are done, or our random photo shoots. I had lunch on Monday with other friends and had to say a few more good-byes.
A few posts ago I mentioned how I felt like God was closing a chapter in my life and beginning a new one. I talked about the excitement I was feeling over it. Today I think I am in mourning.
Purging boxes means that I have to go through everything in them and decide what to keep. Some, like the pin my grade six French teacher gave me when I left the Arctic, were easy to throw away. Others were easy but caused a lot of pain. I found birthday cards from people that stirred up so many memories. I remembered past church involvement, how during that time I received cards signed with "Love." Which made me think of the pain and sorrow that accompanied leaving that church. I found pictures students had drawn for me over the last seven years while I was working in schools. I even found the amauti that my parents had had made for me when we were living in the North (this is a parka with a large hood. Women would keep their babies in the hood because it would keep them warmer. Mine was a five year old version that I could carry my dolls around in).
I have cried so many times today it isn't funny.
I finished packing my room and moved into the kitchen. As I started putting mixing bowls, tea towels, and wine glasses into boxes I was reminded of the instances behind each of their arrival in my possession. Some were gifts when I had first moved out on my own. Some were garage sale purchases with friends that I had once been incredibly close with and who I now have very little contact. Before I knew it was I sitting on my kitchen floor and the tears were flowing again.
Trust me, I know this sounds incredibly pathetic. In fact, I know it is pathetic.
I feel like a door is being shut. I don't know what door that is, and maybe that is why I feel as if I am mourning. Don't get me wrong, I'm still incredibly excited for whatever new adventure God has in store for me. But I also feel like some part of my life is coming to an end. And that is sad.
And so I shall pack some more boxes, cry some more tears, and smile at a few more memories. I will push through this. I will try to keep myself occupied (my home has truly never felt more empty and quiet than it does right now).
But above all I will try to trust and hope that God has this whole adventure thing worked out. He hasn't left me yet, and I know He isn't going to leave me.
Such is the life of a Christian single.
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