Objects in Motion

As a single young adult I moved nearly every year. In your twenties you become painfully familiar with the problems of nomadic existence. Whenever I got a new job or new apartment the application asked me to list out my previous addresses, which became more difficult as time went by. “Where DID I live 4 years ago…..How is anyone supposed to remember that??”

Packing, unpacking, sifting, sorting. The items you collect become a mobile security system and a reflection of the self. I am in a new place, you think, but I am still me.

At 24, most of the items in my room reflected a past season. When college ended, I carefully removed signs and art from my walls and prepared them to make the drive with me from Waco to Houston for a brand new chapter. I had undergone transformation in college and I cherished the scriptures and artwork that reminded me of who God was and what He had done. Starting adult life felt like a terrifying challenge. I clung on to my totems of transformation; a physical symbol of my desire to hold together all that I had learned and experienced and all the freedom and joy I had found. Everything from college went up on the walls of my first adult apartment.

Fast forward a few years...I became a teacher, found new friends, found a new apartment (a couple of times) and found myself deep in young adulthood. Standing in my room one Saturday, it suddenly dawned on me that I was standing in a hodgepodge of inner states from years gone by. A little from college, a little from a year ago, a little from now, a few random things inherited from friends and family. What I saw was evidence of “holding on.” Evidence of trying to attain some sense of self, some peace, some stability. Through the years of change and growth I had acquired so many good experiences, good friends and good truths. I felt I would fly apart completely if I did not hang each one around my room and set reminders on every surface. My breathing scrapbook closed me in to all the beautiful things from the past in such a way that I could not see the NOW, and I could not see a way forward. I was suffocating in my own past.

I was 27, single, bored, and frustrated by a lack of forward motion but in that moment a new truth touched my mind as if breathed out on me by the Holy Spirit. “Just because this fit you before, doesn't mean it fits you now.” I looked at tattered posters and scraps of art from college days and saw the frayed edges. Originally they had been beautiful, but now they were damaged and faded.

I realized that I was stuck. I idolized a past season which I believed to be the MOST significant of my life. What was true, was that it was the most significant season UP TO THEN. Life kept moving but I kept the old things around me like items in a spell that might preserve me. What I saw around me was frustration with a life that kept moving but did not include those high dollar items to which I was looking forward….dating, marriage, family. I had friends and fun in abundance but it all felt worthless without the promise of those badges of “worthiness.”

My stubborn heart had created a tomb around me. No more. I would raise up my faith and believe that life was going to get BETTER with or without a spouse and I was going to grow with Jesus every day, not just in those first days at university. I got a box. I took everything off the walls. Every. Single. Thing. I invited the Holy Spirit to come and evaluate each piece with me. Is this for right now? Is this something I need to hold on to? Is this what YOU are saying God? Most of what wallpapered my walls went into a box. Most of what I had been surrounded by held no place in my present.

In the minimalism left after the purge, there was peace. Laying down past seasons, past glories and past joys is always scary, but it makes a way for what God is doing NOW.

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I was recently married to the love of my life and began the journey of STAYING. Activity and frenzy of constant change gave way to the stability of marriage. And in the absence of motion I wonder...is God still here? Am I still here?

I find myself still clinging on to old totems of God’s goodness from my single years and expecting to carry them into this new season. Movement and change and shifts are the signs of God to those in their twenties. But I am finding that God also speaks slowly. His power is shown through peace, kindness, humility, patience, grace. The zeal I carried in the past sometimes masked my fear of insignificance. I am finally married, shouldn't I be done with this struggle? Now, moments of strife between my sweetie and me sometimes stem from me holding on to these old wineskins and being hard hearted toward my present reality.

It's time. Time to get a box. Time to take down every. single. thing. Time to hear, again, what to keep and what to leave. Time to know that God isn't going anywhere. I am changing. But I am changing toward heaven.