To preface that though, we have to go back a day. Our son in law called us and talked to us about his job. He was currently in Montana for a week and was about to have a high level meeting with the big boss.
We hung up with him, and went about our evening routine and then went to sleep.
When I woke up it was dark in the room. I was wide awake. And I knew, I knew they were moving.
When he returned he and Kat requested a meeting with us at their house. And they told us that a move was on the table, although nothing was definite, and we wouldn't know for awhile.
Now I had been preparing myself for this moment since the moment I woke up. Or should I say the Lord had been preparing me since He woke me. My first instinct is to lose my mind. Those girls are everything to me. However, I could hear the TV pastor I sometimes listen to, in the back of my head. "Everything we have is on loan from God. Our homes, our money, our cars, our kids, our grandkids."
I knew I was about to face a big test. A big, big test. And I wanted to pass this test, because losing any more of my mind is unthinkable.
So I surrendered the girls to the Lord. Lord (with tears rolling down my face) They are yours. Not mine. They have to live the lives you have for them. And I have to let them go. I cannot hold onto them.
But it was still hurting my heart. I came home from their house and just fell into the Mr.'s arms and sobbed. I think he was crying, too.
The next day, after the meeting with the "kids" we went out to eat with the girls. I sat across from the them and just looked at them, as they ordered their chicken nuggets and fries, and I couldn't help it. Tears started rolling down my cheeks. What will I do without them?
I was interrupted by Claire, Grandma, why are your eyes so watery (not realizing they were tears) Oh, honey, I just ate some of that hot sauce and it made my eyes water, I lied.
My heart was just aching. So that afternoon, needing to get away, we packed a bag and took off with Frankie for South Texas. We ran away. Now to be fair, we had been talking about taking a trip, just the two of us, and this was absolutely the perfect time. No obligations, no appointments, nothing pending. So we went. The Mr. told me not to pack any clothes. We will just buy clothes. It will be fun. (We have done this once before, the leaving with no necessities, just buying along the way, and it was SO much fun) So that's what I did. Medicines, dog stuff, dog, and guitar, phones, and laptop so the Mr. could work on the road. And we left. No sooner had we left than the Mr. looked over at me and asked me Did you pack me some shirts? Uh, NO, you said don't pack! Well I thought you would at least throw a couple of shirts in the suitcase. Nope. I had to laugh.
We spent a week driving around the beach in a golf cart, buying clothes and hats, and shopping for snacks, eating out on restaurant patios, (because of the dog) and had a grand old time. We watched the giant freighters coming into port, watched the shore birds dig for shore bugs, and I people watched from my fourth story hotel room window, and played my guitar every day, quietly, of course. It was really hot. As hot as it was at home, only add the humidity because of the ocean. We were on an island surrounded by ocean, so it was like being in a giant sauna. But we had a good time.
Eventually, reluctantly, it was time to go home. So we packed up and headed back, now with a bursting suitcase and a heart full of memories.
I have never dreaded coming home. This was a first. I could have stayed a month just to avoid what I felt was coming. But I had to face it. My kids might be moving. And I couldn't do a thing about it.
But when we got here, things weren't so bad. Except for the heat. The heat is bad. No rain all summer. Everything is dying. And so dry.
And nobody mentioned moving. I thought maybe they just didn't want to tell me, but turns out that was not the case. One day, outright, I asked my daughter if they had made a decision and she was candid with me. No, we haven't heard back, and they probably won't offer him enough for us to move, anyway.
I was relieved for the moment, but I didn't allow myself to get too comfortable with the thought that they weren't going anywhere. It's still on the table.
But I'm doing Ok. I pray about it every day. That God would move them if it's his will, and that he will keep them here if it's not meant to be.
You see, I know how hard it is, because I did it. During Matt's senior year, and Ally's freshman year, when Kat was just nineteen, we uprooted everybody and left for California, for a job. We were there eight months and it was awful. Beyond awful. The Mr. lost his job and we had spent all of our money getting there. Somebody else was living in our home. We had no money to come home and no home to go to. The fabric of our marriage stretched and just about came apart. Finally we were able to come home, the occupant of our home, that would be the Mr.'s brother, was moving out. I told myself I would never do that again. So I know what the "kids" are up against. I know the heartaches and the stresses. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But if they are determined to go, then they will go with my blessing. I know the Lord will take care of them, and especially my (not so) Baby Grands.
The next week, I was determined to be at church, with the girls. We almost didn't make it though, because the Mr. was feeling bad. I decided to go by myself with the girls and let him rest at home. So we went.
It was baptismal Sunday. We talked a little bit about baptism while we waited for service to begin. I explained to them what it was, and told them that I had been baptized, and that their Mom had been baptized, too.
Service started and the teacher came for them, for children's church. I knew they would be watching the baptism from the balcony, so I looked for them when it was time. There were the little kids, peeping over the edge. I could see their teacher, talking to them, quietly.
I watched the participants, for lack of a better word, and thought to myself, wouldn't it be wonderful if the girls were interested in this? They aren't too young, and they have both received Jesus...)
I put the thought from my mind and listened to the preacher and then service was over.
I went out to get the girls from their teacher. There was Arya, the first one out, and Claire wasn't far behind. Grandma, I want to be baptized! I was taken aback. Are you serious, or just kidding around? She was serious. I don't know if it was because there was a child that was baptized that day, who was around six or so, or if it was the talk we had before hand, or just that God was speaking to her, but she was determined. We found the teacher, and then the pastor and it's arranged. This Sunday Claire will be baptized.
Today we did a little Bible homework for kids, something the teacher dropped off for her yesterday, and I made sure she understood what it was about. Truly, I don't think she fully grasps, at seven years of age the deep nuances, but she grasps enough of it, that I feel confident in helping her move forward with this. She has had a salvation experience. She has demonstrated things that God has told her, profound things, that I didn't tell her. She loves Jesus. I think she is ready. She is young. But she is ready.
Update on the foyer painting situation: I finished painting all the panels in my foyer coral. I painted all the trim molding gold, well, almost all of it. Still have some to go. I was loving it. Even the Mr. was digging it. And then. And then...I had this fabulous idea. William Morris wallpaper. So I looked to see if there was such a thing. And behold, there is! And Lo, so I bought some! It's peel and stick. I have never done this before but I started it last night and it. is. stunning! It is the blue of the living room with yellow tulips. It is only on the lower panels, so as not to fight with the pictures that will be on the upper panels. However...And this is still a secret. Don't tell the Mr...I have decided the coral needs to be yellow. I can't believe I am saying this. I have spent months on this room and it is nearing completion, and I'm changing it. Again. But I think it will be so much lovlier. The coral is a nice contrast with the wallpaper and even the cool blue green of the living room. However, hello, YELLOW! Even the Mr., who was opposed to me spending so much money on the wallpaper loves it. He called it stunning. Imagine how great it would be for the wall color to actually match the wallpaper? And yes, I am totally talking myself into it, right here on this blog.
My goodness, it has been QUITE a week!
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