Wednesday, April 12 (4:12)
1 Peter: Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.
Sometimes it feels like "the fiery ordeal" is happening within me. I'm trying to be more methodical about my next move (emotionally, financially, perhaps physically), exploring places first to get a sense of life beyond Livingston and beyond Montana. I've made a spreadsheet of the places (so far, give or take, 125) looking at livability, cost of living, education, crime, and climate. It was 9:00 pm before I realized it was time to call it for the night. The long and short of it is that I didn't go to bed until midnight, the dog wanted to go out at 1 am and again at 3 am, and my mind has been racing to the point of distraction. So, I write to slow my thoughts.
I want to trust God and the plan set out for my life, but it's hard for me to trust, maybe more accurately, surrender. I'm trying to let go of most of what no longer serves me. I'm trying to lighten my load.
Yesterday, I had my tires switched from snow to regular in preparation for the trip I was going to take this weekend with my pups, but a big snowstorm is coming in tomorrow, so we'll see. Instead of returning the tires to the garage, I took them to my newly rented storage unit.
I've started purging in the house and loading up boxes of the things I'd like to continue to take with me. Because the tires didn't go back into the garage, I thought I'd bring more things to the storage unit and began loading my car with more boxes. The only problem is I don't want to make the same mistakes as before. I don't want to carry this stuff around anymore. I've gone through most of the house, but the deeper stuff is in the garage; traditions and treasures, dreams and hopeful ideas, remnants of divorce, and records for taxes.
Faith is going through the fiery ordeal, knowing that God is right alongside me as I purge, shred, and lighten my load to make room for what comes next.