Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Moving Something to Make Me Feel Better

Today I woke feeling unsettled.

Last week a friend's Facebook update said she was going through an office move at work and it was meeting that MK (Missionary Kid) need to move frequently. Why does our heart race just a bit when we hear someone echoes our own thoughts? Have we been indoctrinated enough with the idea that we are so unique that when we stumble upon someone whose experience reflects our own we are charged with an intimate bond? I am thankful it happens more often then we are led to believe it will as children. I need to feel like I'm connecting. Too often I feel like I do not and people notice my slightly quirky thoughts, habits, and behavior.

In a blog I follow the author was posting that she was in the process of packing up and preparing to move to their new home. I was zapped with jolt of jealousy. We are blessed to own a home (sort of own, we have a mortgage so technically the bank still owns it, but we are faithfully making payments with the intention of owning it someday). Secretly (but less secretly now) I wish we rented so we could change houses without taking a financial hit. (I realize how silly that sounds to the majority out there whose hearts are not racing because I have not echoed your own thoughts.)

I had lived in more than twenty houses by the time I was married. My husband had lived in two, in the same town. I knew when I married Eric that it was possible I would live in the same house the rest of my life. I cannot pretend he hinted that it might be anything different. (Just like he can't pretend that I lead him to believe that I would ever love camping.) What I didn't know was how challenging it would be for me not to move. Our first year of marriage Eric got terribly frustrated when he came home and found I had rearranged the furniture. Again. I've since tried to control my urges, knowing that he grew up with couches in the same place for years and appreciates the comfort things not changing.

Today I moved my desk while listening to Amy Grant's latest album (which reminds me of junior high and high school when I listened to her, back in the days of cassettes). Afterwards I felt a little bit better.

When Eric got home the first thing he said was, "You changed everything around again." I had my response ready, "You know I need change. This was a lot cheaper than buying something new." He smiled and kissed me and hasn't mentioned it again. 

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