So now what?

Well here it goes, a more personal blog post than I usually do.

Let's be honest, I don't blog often enough to make that statement but I am making it anyway.

I am having a bit of an identity crisis.  I am too young for this teenage angst and not yet old enough to be having a mid-life crisis, yet here I am, experiencing both.

Let me explain

Since leaving home right after high school graduation, I have always been on the move. I spent 4 years in college, then got married. My husband and I moved from one community to another over the first 4 years, but always within the same general area. In this time I had four different jobs, all within the same field, always experiencing a 'promotion' with each job.

Then we had our son and felt the need to live closer to family, so we made our first provincial move as a couple, from British Columbia to Manitoba. Over the next three years we moved twice in Manitoba. I got my first pastoral job, and boy was it a job. It was amazing and frustrating and scary and exhilarating all at the same time. Looking back I was awfully inexperienced to be running such a large department and at times it showed. It was a breathtakingly painful experience to work in that church. The pressure, leadership, friendship and grace were intense at times but in the end it was not a fantastic fit for me or my family, and we found ourselves moving provinces again.

This time we landed in Saskatchewan, where I worked at one church and my husband took a job at another one. We both loved what we were doing and where we were. We were developing friendships and a community until the unexpected happened. My husband was offered an amazing opportunity in Montreal, and we just had to let him take it. This left my son and I alone in SK keeping on with life in the most normal way we could. This continued for two years, until his employer offered him a permanent position and we decided to move to Montreal, ending our 4 years in SK.

Fast forward to today. We have now been in Montreal for just over three years and if you have been paying attention, 3-4 years is the longest we tend to stay in any one place. We have had the same house, church, and school for 3 years. I have already started and finished a master's degree and am starting a PhD this week.

So here is where the identity crisis starts. I don't know how to live in place past 4 years. How does one stay in a place that long? How do I take those friendships and turn them into deeper friendships? How do I challenge myself in an employment that is starting to feel like the 'same old thing'? I think that starting my PhD will help keep me challenged and excited and in many ways it will, but in some ways it won't. More schooling does not have the same excitement as starting again. There is a thrill in applying for jobs, selling homes and moving. But I know that there is a sadness and stress in them too.

I don't know how to survive in a place once the excitement has worn off. And worse than that, I don't know how to survive in a place when my polish has worn off and the others around me can see my short comings.

This lack of long term experience in a place is freaking me right out. I just want to quit everything that I am doing and pack up and move. The question is where would we go? And for what reason? Could I do that to my pre-teen son? Could I move him again when he is just really starting to make great friendships here.

I can't. I know I can't.

I guess that means I need to learn how to put down roots in a place. I need to learn how to not fear failure, knowing that I can't run away from it. Not this time. Not right now at least.

Not right now.

Pictures as promised!

Ok everyone, I am sorry that it has taken me so long to upload some photos from the themed wedding we attended in August.
First let me say that it was a beautiful wedding and the bride looked stunning!
Secondly, it was rather neat to see all of the themed outfits.  There were a lot of men in suspenders and bow ties including my handsome husband. And a lot of pretty ladies in 'flowy' dresses.

So I decided not to post some of the 'test hair' that I did leading up to the wedding but just the final product.

 Here is what I ended up looking like

My handsome husband (don't mind the patch work ceiling...I'll post about that one day too)

The lighting at the dance was crazy, but I wanted to show that my hair totally flopped after an hour of dancing

A little added geekiness, the bride and groom are huge Legend of Zelda fans and got these wonderful items as wedding gifts.  I also love LoZ so I jumped at the chance to snap a photo with the Master Sword

One more picture of my cutie

And this photo sums it all up

Ok I'm mad and sad...and glad

Well right at this moment I am not acutally glad, but it rhymed with sad and mad. 

I have been trying to get all of the paper work done for the sale of a house and a purchase of a house. It is so hard to have my husband two provinces away when were are supposed to be signing the papers for both transactions together. This means that there are lawyers, notaries and brokers all involved. All of which are trying so hard but are not communicating well with each other. 

Now I am on a super short deadline waiting for an approval from a bank for a power of attorney signing. It is all so confusing and it is making me so mad. And so sad. 

I miss my husband most at these times. I wish we could do this together. It would still be frustrating but at least we could wind down with a glass of wine together, we could pray together. We could get angry together.

I miss together. 

But I can't be with him right now. And I'm stressed out. 

So I keep turning to Philippians 4:4  which talks about rejoicing and giving The Lord all your requests. And He will give you peace. 

I'm trying. 

It's not easy.

I know that He really does have it all under control. Even if it doesn't work out perfectly. But I hope and pray that it does. 

So I am trying to be glad too. And not just because it rhymes. 

Letting my joy be stolen

I admit I am totally struggling. 

Like I've written about a lot recently, I am moving to Montreal to be with my husband who has been working there for 2 years. So that means I am leaving my job in church ministry. It is hard to leave, I've covered that topic already. 

But I have realized that I have allowed the frustrations of being present while being replaced as well as the confusion and desire to be gentle to those I love and who I will miss deeply, to completely steal my joy. 

I am totally thrilled to be moving to be with my husband. I love him, more than my job and more these friends (sorry friends, you are a close third...behind Oscar of course). I love Montreal! The food, culture and festivals just to mention a few things that I love. There will be more friends (not to replace, just to add to) and another job. 

So why am I letting things that I can't control take away my joy? I should be screaming it from the roof tops that I am going. I should be counting the minutes. But I'm not. I am partnering every 'yes I'm very exited' response with 'but I am also very sad'. Because I am sad. And that is ok. But I shouldn't let that sadness, frustration or awkwardness completely steal the joy that I feel in my heart. 

Leaving is hard work

I'm going to say it again, leaving is hard work. And leaving a job for 8 months is just way too long. After a while people don't want your opinion any more, they don't want you to be in your job, and yet they don't want you to not do you job either. They just want you to be someone else doing your job, or just you staying, not leaving. 

Well that is where I find myself. After a long day of conversations, some planned, some not, some friendly, some less friendly all I can say is that leaving is hard. After 8 months you have to not care as much about what happens after you leave. I find that incredibly hard. I joke around about not caring, I'll even make jokes about it, but I care. I care too much. I find that I am crying almost everyday, sad to be leaving.  Sad to be making the families go through another transition. Mad at different situations. Scared to death about where I'm headed. Tired from years of over work and emotional strain. Nervous about finances. Frustrated that my 8 months of notice didn't get my employer any further along to filling my position than 2 months would have, or so it seems. 

I am also excited in this transition too. Excited to be moving to Montreal. Thrilled to soon be living with my husband again. Hopeful about what God has instore for my employment there.  Desiring friendships half as good as the ones I made here. 

So I sigh and remind myself that leaving is hard work, but it is fun and scary and crazy and sad too. All at the same time, and that is ok. 

Is bigger better?

My husband and I are moving, again. We have moved more than 9 times in our 12 years of marriage and at this point have owned 4 different houses. We have lived in three different provinces so far and are moving to a fourth.

 I am tired of moving.

 With each move is a fresh start, but not before the sad good byes. With each new job comes new challenges and new failures. With each new house comes a fresh coat of paint and many new struggles. 

My husband and I don't always agree on housing, we like different things. I think that's pretty normal.  We are currently trying to buy our 5th house. And this time is no exception when it comes to differing opinions. BUT this time comes with a strange twist. My husband is already living in the province that we are moving to, but I am not, so I have to completely trust him to pick the house. All I get are photos, a Skype tour and his word. So...I  trust him, completely, but it is nerve racking. It helps that we have one mutual goal in mind, lower our debt load and live a bit more simply. 

The house he has picked allows us to do that, while still having enough usable space to be comfortable. Not as much space as I would like (or so it seems from this distance) but enough. I struggle with the bigger is better idea. I really do think bigger is better. A bigger living room, a bigger bedroom, I'd almost kill for a bigger kitchen. I look at others around me with large new houses and I get jealous. I want the bigger and better house. 

But then I remember that with those 'biggers' often comes others, bigger mortgage payment, bigger debt, 'bigger' stress (especial when I'm not working yet). I have decided that smaller is better. Who cares if my Christmas decorations will be stored in the shed, or some of my precious memories will be crammed in the crawl space under the stairs. My canning supplies and freezer will survive in the heated garage. 

My house will be full, but so will my heart.

 

Worst day ever?

It feels like this might be the worst day ever. Ok, not The worst EVER, but the worst I've had in a while. 

First off, I live in a freezer, well Saskatchewan Canada and the temperature today did not rise about -42 with the wind chill factor. That alone makes it a bad day. 

Secondly, my husband works and lives 3 provinces away in Montreal Quebec and he left here today after a blissful two week visit. The day he leaves is always rough on all of us. 

Thirdly, I got my first traffic ticket ever. I have been driving for almost 20 years and today I got a ticket for doing a u-turn in a light controlled intersection. I didn't know I wasn't allowed to do that, but apparently I'm not. So there is $230 dollars I need to pay and some points off my good driving record. 

Fourthly (yup it is not done yet) I seem to have lost an earring that I got from a friend when she was traveling in Spain. Boo 

But even after all of this I still need to think about all of the great things I have in my life. 

A warm house in this cold temperature. 

A husband who has found the job of his dreams. 

A great job that allows me to pay for a mistake like a traffic violation. 

And friends who think of me when they travel the world. 

Worst day ever, maybe. Filled with blessings, definitely.