Limbo

I can't say that I much like limbo.  It pushes me into an uncomfortable level of adaptability, a strength that is not high for me to begin with.  Upcoming limbo in housing for 2 1/2+ months is not exactly my preference, and added to the current month of thinking about (and actually) packing, it's a long period of limbo (and that doesn't include the limbo at work and at church!).  It takes a motivated day for me to start to put things in boxes; to tear apart what has been "normal" for the past 3 years and live in a state of obvious change.  So for me, this process of moving out of my apartment by the end of the month is as much a mental process as it is a physical one.

Maybe mostly because I don't often handle transition very well.  I like stability; transition is unknown and unsettling.  And I like my apartment.  I enjoy my own space to re-energize, the sun through the south windows in the morning, the light yellow walls, the trek up two flights of stairs carrying heavy grocery bags (ok, maybe not so much that one).  I'm not necessarily looking forward to being transient over the coming months, and the past weeks and the ones to come are a slow process of grieving what I am giving up: independence, personal space, security in general...

Part of this process is figuring out what things I might need to NOT store away in order to take with me and what items in my apartment aren't necessary at all and I should get rid of.  So in a way it's also cleansing - purging my life of "stuff" and simplifying.  That part is kind of refreshing; an acknowledgement that life is so much more than things and that I'm not bound by any of it.  Yes, somewhat daunting when I think about selling my car and depending on other people for transportation or not having easy access to items I count on to have at hand.  But there is something humbling about being forced to make do with what I have.

And limbo also represents the hope in the coming changes.  I am looking forward to what the coming months will bring.  I just have those moments when I look at the piles of boxes and empty walls and ask myself, "Am I crazy?  What am I thinking moving halfway around the world?"  But those moments pass and are remarkably replaced with peace, praise be to God.