The poetry of morning quiet settles me, and I am comfortable not knowing. I can wait. But when I begin to tend to each detail of a new day, I must discuss proper placement with my rising shoulders, turn shallow breaths to deep, slow down, even make a mistake on purpose. Not an error likely to undo, damage, or result in chaos but a re-aligning of self-imposed boundaries, like giving myself permission to eat chocolate before breakfast.
At this moment, I am serene, humbled by the magnitude of being at the threshold of living my dream life – full-time traveling/road schooling in an RV with my husband and children. Yet, there is one critical detail still waiting for closure: will we sell our house, and if not, will we rent it to good tenants?
We can only begin our journey once matters of the house are satisfactorily squared away. I am continually handing this puzzle over to God. Many times a day, I roll the details in my mind, reshaping them from fear to faith, remembering past transitions of similar quality and how, after I had riled myself into a near frenzy, the outcome turned out to be better than I would have engineered if I’d had the means.
“As ye have faith, so shall your powers and blessings be. This is the balance. This is the balance. This is the balance.”*
I pray that as the day progresses, I can hold onto this peace.