Up, Up and away.

Growing up.
 Those are two words that came into my vocabulary from time to time, but I don't think I ever understood the deep meaning behind them until recently. It all started one night as I was sitting in my room about two weeks ago. My mind was swimming with logistics (as it always is), except this time, those logistics were a little different then they had ever been before.

I reasoned with myself, "thousands of young people have done this. They have all moved out of their parents house, wether to get married, go to college or live on their own. Why am I any different? Why is my mind having a hard time wrapping it's self around this idea?" And then it struck me. This was new to me. Not the moving part, not the packing up, leaving a house, unpacking, making new friends part. That was all familiar in a strange sort of way (probably because I had done it nine times before. The new part was that I was doing it alone.  Without my family, without my parents. It was also strange because I had to pick and choose what to take. And that seemed like an enormous task as I didn't want to take too little with me, but as stuff piled up, it all began to seem like too much for my three month stay. So with my logistical brain running around like a horse on a race track, and my hands packing up boxes like I had 2 hours left instead of the 60 I really had, I let my thoughts wander off to a place they rarely go. A place where I thought and asked deep questions of myself, and of God.

 I knew that moving to Nashville for the fall semester of school was where He wanted me. I had prayed and talked it all over with my parents and other people months before, and I had felt His clear leading. So why did I now feel like it was all a bad idea? Why was my brain going separate ways? Part of me was super excited about my time in Nashville. I knew I loved the family I moving in with, and I also knew that my new job of part time nanny, part time student, would fit me well. But then there was this other, little part of my brian-the part I didn't go to very often-that kept going to how much I would miss my family, my friends, my home. I would miss all these little things that happen every day. From getting up and enjoying my morning tea, to lunch with my mom, my dad coming home, making dinner and laughing in the kitchen late into the night while baking with my sister. The thing that puzzled me most was that I had been traveling all spring and summer, and had missed many of those events in the same way I was going to over the next three month. But I think -after the fact, looking back onto that late night- what was getting me was the newness of this unique circumstance. And the fact that I felt like this move was some rite of passage. Some sort of moving from childhood into adulthood.

That night, I ended up slowing down that horse, and putting my hands at rest. I remembered a song I had heard about a year ago, and I curled up in bed and listened to it's words. Words I felt that came from my very core at that moment. (Taylor Swift songs-though sometimes annoying- have a way of speaking words when you can not.)

There I sat, in the still and quiet of the night, curled up in my bed. Those words pinging off the deepest part of my brain.  All I could think about was how many moments I had not appreciated. But I guess that is part of life. You like those little moments so much more when they are gone. 

All of these thoughts almost got forgotten in the back of my mind, until this Sunday. I was trying out my first church in Nashville, and I was super excited to go. Then I left late, the drive took longer then I thought, and I got lost. When I finally walked in the doors of that church I was relieved. For about 5 entire seconds. Suddenly I felt all alone. Not that the church was not welcoming, it was just a lot harder then I thought to walk into somewhere completely strange, alone. As worship started, I had a lot of feelings coming on rather quickly. I felt scared, lonely, intimidated and frustrated. I knew that church was the last place on earth I should feel lonely! After all, I am surrounded by like-minded believers, not to mention having an all-knowing God beside me every step of the way. I kept trying to shove those thoughts through my brain, as I fought back tears of homesickness. Church has always been a social place for me, and a lot of the time it's one of the days of the week I get to see many of my friends. So walking into church all alone, watching as friends greeted one another with hugs and laughter, was a painful reminder of just how far way all of my friends were.

As the first song ended, my mind started clearing up, and I was able to put my focus where it belonged- on God. I felt His nearness, and though it was the exact feeling I had been hoping for, it was just what I needed in the moment. Though the church turned out being very friendly and nice, it was too far away, so I will not be returning.

My point of this entire post being- Growing up is hard. It is beautiful, but it's hard. I wouldn't change one moment of my childhood, but I do wish that it wouldn't have flown by so fast. And that I hadn't been so ready to be an adult. Maybe I have learned my lesson. Maybe I will treasure the moments of my young adult year just a little bit more. Hopefully, I will.

When I sat down to write today, I had a totally different subject in mind. But as I started typing, these words just flowed out. So I guess they were ones that needed to be said :)

~Rebekah