Right now, it's been five months since our last move. I miss the friends I had to leave behind. I miss the church and school communities that felt like family. The outpouring of support from that community following the birth of my second son was outstanding.
Today, I realized that I haven't really grieved my losses since my family moved. Here and there, I have felt sad, but before today, I didn't allow the emotions to unfold. I'm not sure why. Perhaps, I was overwhelmed by the tasks of settling into a new house, town, and church. I guess it just wasn't time yet.
This past weekend, we visited our old town. It was a little emotional, because it's the one year anniversary of a tornado touchdown that destroyed large chunks of the community. My family was in town the day of that tornado--we were in church with some of the people who lost their homes. Surviving the disaster bonded us with the community in a way that can't be replicated.
Maybe remembering that scary day prodded my emotions along.
No matter the cause, I will allow myself to feel this pain and to recognize this loss. I will not rush myself--I will process my feelings as I need to.
Eventually, little-by-little, I will get the courage to meet new people. I will join the choir or invite someone over for coffee or maybe even seek out a moms' group. I will entrust this to God. I will pray for Him to place some good people He would like me to meet in my life, and I will try to be patient.
In the past, my relationships didn't develop overnight, and I know it will take time here, too.
I will pray that God will place good friends in my husband's and my son's lives, as well.
We prayed about and entrusted this move to God prior to my husband's job assignment, and I believe that we are here for a reason.
I will trust in you, Lord.
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