I bristle a bit at making New Years resolutions because, to be blunt, I don't like doing the same thing as everyone else. This year the thought of making a resolution feels like an insult. Like some ominous voice saying "you aren't working hard enough. you are failing. Do everything better." I have nothing but expletives in response to that voice, and I'll spare you.
And this year, looking behind still fills me with sorrow. Some of it I really thought I was done grieving. Over a year past the loss of my community, and so many friendships I considered to be home - I thought over a year would ease that pain more than it has.
Though maybe some of the pain is new, aggravating the old wounds. Looking ahead, the new year is full of unknowns I wasn't expecting. Out of nowhere a possibility of a new home, new job, school for me, new chapter for us came and made itself known. Like a big dog that comes and lives on your porch. Every time you go outside it follows you. It came and sat in front of us and stared us down, and we knew we had to do something with it. What else do you do? Never go outside again? Except this isn't just the prospect of taking a pet into your family. It would mean moving. To Tulsa, Oklahoma.
I can't seem to find a way to express all the feelings that bombard me at any given moment about this prospect. And I don't think anyone gets it. Or wants to talk about it. Or maybe I don't want to talk about it. But I still want to be asked. Which is unfair because I am sending out an "I don't want to talk about it" vibe. I guess that's because I can't quite decide from one moment to the next if I'm scared sick, or heartbroken over the prospect of leaving such dear friends, or excited about going to school, or relieved that Bill might have a job he loves, or worried that he won't get the job and then what? No matter what else I might be feeling, I feel lonely. I haven't felt this alone in years.
So New Year's feels like a jerk. Like it's mocking me. "Welcome to 2013. You have no idea what's ahead. Good luck with that."
I know I seem bitter. I know it's ugly. I don't want to and I've been doing my best to manage it without talking about it. I've been barely conscious of the unhealthy coping behaviors I have been resorting too, and I guess today I saw it. I've been working all day to uncover the source of my unrest and as I get there, I find the pit of my stomach in a knot of fear. Dread. A hundred questions with no answers, but I will have to figure them out regardless. Where will my kids go to school? How will I explain this move to my 4 year old? Where will we live? Will we make friends? How long will it take? How can I bear to leave these people? Will I be forgotten? Will I matter there? Will I be invisible? Does Tulsa care if me and my family come? How will I get through the really dark times there? How can I be there when Kylee has her first baby? Where will we go to church? Can I stomach another new church? Can I stomach leaving another church? When will I start school? What if I hate it? What if Bill hates his job? What if starting a new job is so stressful for him that I am alone all of the time? What if all of the friends we used to have there don't care about being friends with us now? What if Bill doesn't get the job? What is all this for? Will we ever have roots anywhere? Is it going to be Tulsa? Because I thought it was going to be here.
2013, I have no resolutions for you. I have a prayer. That I will weather the uncertainty with more courage than I have had today. That there will be a lot of kindness, because I need it. That trust in a good God will grow. That I will course correct quickly and with humility. That love will win.
