13.

Two weeks. Fourteen days. I'm moving to a new land, walking into the unfolding new of life’s next season. The lease still needs to be signed and money sent in. The boxes and furniture still need to be packed and loaded into a truck. The last hours at this job here need to be worked as faithfully as the last — with extra snuggles and cuddles for the kiddos I won’t get to hold for awhile once I leave. The Christmas festivities still need to be held with my loved ones. Just fourteen days. Only two weeks.

Oh, soul, who is your Father, from Whom comes your help?

>> “You’re the One Who conquers giants, You’re the One Who calls out kings; You shut the mouths of lions, You tell the dead to breathe; You’re the One Who walks through fire, You take the orphans hand; You are the One Messiah; You are I Am.”

Who gave you the "when" to move? 

>> New Years Day. Ive known for nearly six months.

Who gave you the "where"? 

>> Milwaukee, WI. Placed on my heart in July and confirmed in September.

Who rained down favor and provided a job, a car, a house? 

>> read that account here.

Stand firm, my soul. Take heart. 

We are turning up the risk, He says, and the ones around you who care for you have natural concerns. Don’t be swayed by them. You know it will all work out because you know Me. Let what you see be more real than what they don’t. It IS. Don’t let them keep you here in “safe” out of fear, out of unknowns. I have called you forward. Yes, into the deeper waters that you don’t know — but I DO. Your time in "safe" is done. Safe is not your calling, “sure” + “steady” + “ever present help” is. "Safe" is for children. You’re no longer a child. Come with Me into risk. My presence is steady and sure and will be your help and cover and companion. I know you rest in that, I know you’re ready to follow, I also know it feels heavy and lonely to you. It isn’t really. You will never bear the stresses or trials alone. I am your Husband. The burdens are Mine to bear, I just want you beside me through it. So walk in freedom! You have the authority and power of My Name as your own. All that is Mine is yours. I’ve got you. Let’s go take care of the ones around us.

Here we go! Fourteen days. Two weeks. ...

12.

Meggan,

Exploring, pioneering, going — there is something about the unknown; the potential of it, the limitlessness. I love home, but Im not afraid to leave it. As much as home is dear, making home in new places has a sweetness Im nearer to. By the time I was 15yrs old I had lived in 15 homes. As a particularly organized child you would think that all those changes would upset the apple cart of my lifestyle system and well-ordered space, and I suppose it did, but even then I was more excited about getting to reorganize and make a ‘new way’ my own than I was frustrated by the uprooting. 

No matter how many times you move though, leaving the familiar, saying goodbye to the dear places and everyday faces, is no easier. I’ve been so caught up in the plans and excitement for Milwaukee that I’d forgotten this transition means a complete uprooting and starting from scratch in a place I don’t know once again. Last year this time I was packing up to drive across the country and move into a state Id never been to, to live with people Id never met and get a position Id never held before in a setting Id never experienced — by myself. There was a culture shock to it all and an unrelenting requirement for effort put forth without even the rest of a friendly face at days end. It was hard. I found joys in it, I was stretched very thin by it, and it certainly merited the title: adventure. This move is similar except that I’ll know some faces and the job position is one Im at least aware of how to operate and be flexible in. 

Traversing into the great unknown is a labor. In these times its wonderful how a brand or shop you recognize appears as perfect relief. Just knowing that my new place is one street over from a Starbucks is a comfort. To be able to walk into an atmosphere Im acquainted with and order the drink of my current routine, not having to think twice over this one in a hundred decisions my new world will present me with daily, is a gift.

Oh, and isn’t it fun? Turning on the favorite songs, drowning out the grating sound of the new furnace, or throwing wide the windows to let the sounds of life unfolding down the street sweep through. To unpack those boxes and glance around at the inventory of items, each collected over time and containing memory of some adventure past, to wipe them clean and set them in place, step back and see it seeping out: home.

Yes, Im both a nomad and a nester.

Chelsea