It has been nearly a year. I've been overwhelmed, and tired, and absent. I was praying for something to give. Some sort of space in the day that was mine. A house on the market. A job hunting husband in a job he hated with a two-hour/day commute. I was smothering.
We exhausted all the job possibilities in the area. No one wanted to buy our house. We were not at home in church.
Frustrated Chris mentioned seeing if Whirlpool (his employer during college and for a 5 year stint previously) was hiring. I, scared to think that maybe this was the give (scared to hope that we could come back), looked. There were several possibilities.
The process was either achingly slow in order for us to say we truly did exhaust all the possibilities or so fast we couldn't keep up.
Something gave. And we are here in Southwest Michigan, tucked close to the lake in a little neighborhood with lots of children. We've been here a month, the children and I permanently, Chris slightly longer. The boxes are unpacked. Our house feeling like ours. We returned to the church we attended, or who attended us, when we were here before.
It is different than I imagined, this returning. My memories of here stop seven years ago, but life went on without us. People stayed and left and changed. We changed. It isn't as easy as I had imagined though I knew it wouldn't be. My heart wasn't convinced, I'm finding.
I went to a baby shower yesterday for a lady I didn't know till I got to the shower. It is how the ABF (Sunday school) operates, has always operated. I, telling our story led one to believe that coming here was a decision we had to convince ourselves of, resign ourselves to, but MI is always a good idea.
I prayed that something (I didn't know what or how. I didn't care.) would give. I can still see myself and feel myself begging for that, so desperately. This was the give. And I'm thankful for the gift.