First of all, let’s just set the record straight on the brilliance of upending one’s entire life for the sake of rest and adventure:
Don’t do it. It’s a bad idea.
Hire a pseudo-you to go before you and smooth all the kinks, cry all the tears, and vent all the frustrations. Then you can slip into your new life unnoticed and free from pain and regret.
You can post all the awesome pictures of your new life on social media and pretend that everything is awesome and peachy and the food is great and the kids are happy.
You can admit that sometimes dumb decisions are made, which is fine, because I’ve read Scripture and I know God works with and through idiots all the time.
So we are joining the ranks of fools with faith. Fools with Faith. The capitals make it sound more official.
But in the spirit of foolishness, I’m making myself a list of ways to cope that don’t include packing my boxes and running back to…nothing.
- Don’t panic. If you’re like me, it’s easier to Craigslist your entire life in preparation for an emergency move anywhere. I know it’s tempting to send out your spouse’s resume and have the return email bounce back to you and go through the entire initial interview process, vetting new opportunities until you can SURPRISE! him with an onsite interview. Easy-peasy. Problem solved. Return to your old life in a new place and it’s like transplant surgery. Same organism, different Body, right?
- Don’t make brownies. Just don’t. When the two dozen reasons to be stressed this morning happen, you just don’t want the brownies calling to you from the stovetop. It’s too easy to have brownies with coffee and brownies after coffee and brownies alongside lunch and brownies before the kids get home. Before you know it, your Craigslisting your pants.
- Don’t reminisce your old life. For the sake of sanity, just remember high school boyfriends and how everything before was always so much cuter and sweeter and funnier and more romantic after the breakup. This is the way life works, too. It’s reverse Grass Was Greener syndrome. The grass probably was greener, but you sold it. So move forward.
- But if for some reason you find yourself Craigslisting the living room furniture with a quarter-pan of brownies to your right while sneaking a peek of your old house on Google Maps then… name it for what it is: Fear.
Fear that God could meet you there but not here. Fear that His love has boundaries that don’t follow fools across country. Fear that He might forget to be with you. Fear that things are completely out of control because control feeds off familiarity and nothing here looks the same.
5. Fear less. Trust more. Lean in. Breathe.
Or maybe all this is just me. My oven is beeping and I smell chocolate.