Thursday, October 27, 2011

31 Days: It Still Feels Suspiciously Easy



I drove past my old digs on the way home tonight. There's nothing that pulls my heart in that direction, though I wouldn't say that I'm avoiding it, either.

The light was on in the toy room. The kitchen was lit all dim and eveningish, probably just the little light over the sink left on.

I got a twinge of homesickness, but I think it was mostly the dishwasher talking.

I pictured myself hugging my Pottery Barn hutch and petting my island. Just being honest.

Still, all the while, I didn't even slow the van down. I drove right past and into my little concrete driveway down the road. I live here now, and in a very strange way, it already feels like its been a lifetime.

Is this what a whirlwind feels like? I'm sure change can sometimes drag out long and agonizing. And maybe that has its merits. It would make for a more dramatic 31 Days series, that's for darn sure.

There's been nothing agonizing about this change. It has whipped me around so fast that my hair is still a wild bird's nest. It's been exhausting, but mostly painless.

I wish I could just end it there and skip of to bed, but I'm the girl who can't help but to imagine - just for a quick second - what it might be like if that car crossed the line and came right at me, or if my flat-iron accidentally lunged from the counter to the shower, with me in it. What if a strong gust of wind trips the switch while I'm fishing a spoon out of the garbage disposal?* It's morbid, yes, but it's also just a fact of my life. 'Tis the brain I was dealt.

So tonight, I'm mostly at peace. I'm thankful to the ends of the earth that God has prepared our hearts so fully, that He's prepared the way so entirely. But I'm also not dismissing the idea that maybe this is, in some way, the calm before the storm. Hey, it's possible.

Also? Five Days. Five more days of Letting Go. Thank you for saying that you're enjoying it, but just know that I've been keeping a list of normal/mundane/ridiculous things that I'm itching to talk about. The madness will be unleashed in Five. Days. !!!!!!!

I almost want to spring for a sheet-cake.


* I do miss my garbage disposal something fierce. So sue me.

29 comments:

  1. Home is where the heart is! I miss my disposal too, but I've gotten used to it. I was dealt a morbidly curious brain as well, glad in a way to know it's not just me :)

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  2. I've been with you all along and have enjoyed the way your posts have challenged me. I'll be with you the next five days, but I have to be honest and say that I'm looking forward to some of your funny kid stories to make me laugh.

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  3. Looks like you are going to call to the morbid. I do the same things with cars, deer, knives, at the zoo.... Morbid and weird. But my secret brain.

    Ps. I'm beginning to catch myself not wanting to go to bed till I read your evening post. I look forward to that 10:30-11:00 period. Does that make me a stalker?

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  4. Thoroughly enjoyed the whole of your letting go! Much easier if it's someone else in the whirlwind, right!?
    Impressed down to my toes with your insight & honesty! Five more days..."You can do it!" from water boy is ringing in my ears ;)

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  5. as much as I am enjoying this series I can't wait for you to talk about your random, zany kids/life/thoughts with your usual light hearted tone. I've never had a garbage disposal. Sounds like they must be very hard to live without once having experienced them....guess I'm glad I don't know what I'm missing

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  6. Dishwashers are over-rated. I shun them simply because I hate the unloading phase. I am anxious for the ridiculous list but sorta lost focus of the subject once you mentioned cake. Ugh... I miss cake.

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  7. Will you still love me if I tell you I don't really understand the 31 days...I mean, I sort of do. Some famous bloggers such as yourself are blogging about whatever they like for 31 days. And you picked Letting Go. Is that right? So you are telling us one part of your letting go every day?

    I like how you write and what you write even if I don't understand your overall theme : ). I am trying to imagine life without a dishwasher...it's not pretty.

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  8. I am enjoying 'it!' Every blessed bit of it!

    I used to imagine the car thing...til one day it actually happened to me, makes it much MORE realistic to imagine! ;)
    Also, have a hard time standing to close to the edge of a cliff or a roof 'cause I may have the unexpected urge to jump! Or at the very least some outside force might suck me clean over! ;)

    Or being buried alive! My dad was a grave digger (for reals) & I actually fell in a grave once! Nearly drowned! True story!
    Enough already....I'll stop!!! Perhaps no one needs to delve that deep in my craZy mine! Ha!

    I love how you brain works!!! ;)

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  9. And I thought I was the only one that thought about curling irons jumping into toilets and knives falling onto feet, and the occasional rampant disposal. Go figure! Your series is lovely, and so will be your mundane and off the wall. Ooh, maybe a recipe or seven?

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  10. Oh how I love your posts so much!! I have enjoyed reading these and look forward to many more.

    My husband asks me all the time to please slow down my thinking. Apparently, my wackadoodle brain is always on high alert and I often over think far too much. I also have a tendency to think of morbid, off the wall situations....glad to know I'm not alone :)

    Take Care.

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  11. Five days left?! Wow, I am going to miss this series. Finish strong Farmgirl.

    p.s. I miss my disposal too. I just threw out week old taco soup that I had to strain through a colander first.

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  12. And I thought I was the only one who imagined such morbid things. Just yesterday it was something having to do with a knife on the counter and my small child playing with blocks on the floor...

    Have been loving (and challenged!) by the series. Was laying in bed unable to sleep the other night cuz of letting go of money and a dream. So...your evil plot to make others go sleep deprived is working. ;)

    xx

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  13. I completely understand the dishwasher longing. That was me this time last year. In the last 18 months I have only driven by my old house once. We had the chance this past weekend and I felt no desire to do it. My house and I have both moved on I think. I'm glad you are adjusting so well to your new life.

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  14. It's hard to believe some people live their whole lives without a dishwasher or a disposal. Sometimes even by choice! If you guys ever decide to move again, you can get a disposal installed, we can even call it a necessity, I think that's only fair.

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  15. I love all your posts...whether they're about letting go or not!

    I wonder if the letting go of the farmhouse was also easier (besides God's bigness!) b/c you were able to make a clean break...

    when I posted about not letting go of the baby stuff, I realized that I was imprisoning myself in the past...now that the stuff is out of my house, I am able to fully move forward with the life I have been dealt...and it's not a bad one. Not.at.all.

    But sometimes, if we don't make a clean break...if we rent our property instead of sell...if we move out over several weekends instead of one particular designated day, our morbid brains ;) begin to play tricks on us. "Did we do the right thing...?" "Maybe we could slowly wean ourselves off the farm...?" etc.etc.

    Oh, and I've got the same morbid brain...what if my hover round brake fails and I don't stop at the edge of the viewing platform of the Grand Canyon" sort of thing...LOL

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  16. You're almost there! Can't wait for the madness, though I have enjoyed this series.

    P.S. We had to remove the garbage disposal in this house and never replaced it. I have a boy who takes food scraps outside. Lovely compromise.

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  17. I have been super busy and I have missed a day or so and its just not the same. I am so proud of you and your 26 days and counting! However, I really can't wait for what will be unleashed from that brain of yours that has been stored up and put on a list :-)
    xxoo
    heather

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  18. the times that we have moved, I never really felt a strong sense of sadness over the house that we left. God has such a way of leading us to the better, even if we don't see it that way at first. Also, I love that I don't have to feel sad that the 31 days ends in five days and things go back to normal around here. Your regular posts are just as amazing as these "focused" ones. The work that God is doing in your life is evident even when not formally titled! That's good stuff!! God Bless!!

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  19. You know I've never owned a dishwasher or had the luxury of a disposal in the sink. Law. I guess I never knew what I was missing - something that could conjur up some hankerings in your heart. I'm SO glad to know that you think of morbid things too. Why just this morning, as I sit here reading blogs in the early twilight, sipping my English Breakfast tea, I thought - what if someone busted up in here right now and murdered me. On the way home from Missouri as I was singing along with the radio I thought - any second now - I could die. Law. It helps me to keep perspective, and always be ready to go I reckon. I think your last 31 day blog should be "Letting Go of Blogging About Something for 31 Days". So let it be written, so let it be done. xo

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  20. 'Suspiciously easy' !!! That describes exactly how I feel sometimes when things work out way too well. Why can't we just accept that God gives us a break sometimes??!!
    xo

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  21. Yes! Isn't it so nice when we know God has taken what we just knew we'd clinch tight and opened our hand gently enough to give us something different...His plan?

    I'm feeling it today, too. Only, I have to be honest...we share that same kind of brain {though I'll only admit that on your blog} and I'm hoping no storms arisin' here either.

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  22. a sheet cake? As in a Chocolate Texas Sheet cake? You should definitely spring for one of those.

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  23. oh I'm so glad I'm not the only one who's brain is like that! :)

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  24. I have never had a garbage disposal, anywhere I've lived. Is that strange? I do like/love my dishwasher, but there is something about warm soapy dishwater and washing dishes by hand, sometimes I do it, just for the fun of it. ok, now that may be strange??!!

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  25. Each time I crank my garbage disposal up I think of you and the gloppy oatmeal soup. Then I pray for you + your family. You are an inspiration my dear.

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  26. Glad for you that your transition has been so easy..proof that when your in God's will..that is how it goes..and yup those crazy thoughts, just the creative mind at work!

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  27. me too on the sheet cake. 'twas a sad moment for me over the weekend when i drove past your old digs and realized i didn't have a clue where your new place is. i briefly considered rolling down the window and cruising through town hollering your name, but the hubby was driving and is not always on-board with my shenanigans. poo.

    ps what say you and i sneak into the ol' farmhouse and group hug your pottery barn hutch?

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  28. I am SO glad this has been "suspiciously easy." Just goes to show that God can take what we might consider impossible and make it seem easy. Of course, it's not always easy...Amen?
    But always,
    ALWAYS,
    ALL.
    WAYS.
    GOOD.

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  29. Can you tell I'm catching up? I love you. I love your honesty. I love your words and how you take us along for the ride and cause us to pause and to think and to consider.
    When I went through my divorce, I was a stay-at-home mom. I didn't have to work.
    I didn't have to work.
    I moved from my warm, insulated, re-done, re-built, re-modled brand new wallpaper in the kitchen with barn red hearts with a country blue dot beneath. (It was 1989.)
    I moved into a drafty house. Lived downstairs from a drug dealer. Was approached by the police to be an informant. Nailed a blanket over the front door in winter to keep the wind out. Took my babies into this place with me. And it had the brick looking linoleum that I thought I had always wanted. It took an entire box of brillo pads to get it clean. But there it was...that damn brick looking linoleum.
    My next rental was tiny, but snug and warmer and in a safer neighborhood surrounded by old people who loved me and my children and watched our house when we were away. We had a landlord who was never in the house and let me treat it as if it was mine...and that is where we lived until they were raised.
    He will carry you through. love, Cheryl

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