Obviously, being in the middle of a move, I have been thinking about moving. I move a lot. A LOT. Always have.
I almost can't imagine life without it.
The new house, new rooms, new places to put my furniture - it is almost as if everything is new again.
The new stores, new foods, new backroads and twisty discoveries of nature - an adventure waiting to happen.
The new friends to form lifelong bonds with - as long as the old ones don't forget me, well I am always happy to make more!
The new gathering of followers, lovers, of, Jesus to join with - that is sometimes harder to find, and slightly frustrating. But eventually He leads us where we are supposed to be.
I have been moving my whole life. I exaggerate not.
When my parents brought me home from the hospital they lived in married student housing at college. Not approved for children. Within weeks they moved. Dad finished college: moved. If you count those two, I was moving into my 6th location before I was 6.
If you count dorm rooms in college, this house we are leaving is my 31st place to live. Which means we are headed into number 32.
I am 32.
And that is only counting houses. That doesn't count separate moves. I have gone back to my parents more times then I want to count!
No wonder I am good at it!
I don't think I would take the time to clean out the inside of my cabinets without the incentive of a move. I am pretty sure I wouldn't clean the doorknobs nearly as often as I end up doing it. And my microwaves and refrigerators hardly have a chance to get dirty.
Moving is good for me. Perfect for me. Moving sort of defines me.
And I wouldn't change my life for anything.
But after this 4 month stint, I am unbelievably ready for a real bed!