Transitions Pt. 2

I aimlessly scrolled through instagram. And I saw that my dear sister-friend had posted a photo of her loving father. He traveled to go help her pack as she transitioned to another state. Much like I did a month ago. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. (That’s what social media can do). I smiled at that sweet picture, but there was something in me that wished that my parents could also help me through this transition of mine.

Within days notice, I picked up my life, that I built over the course of 6 years in Maryland, and transitioned to Philly. For the most part, the transition has been smooth and a part of me feels guilty for complaining or having any sadness attached to this relocation. But reality is, this was a huge transition for me. And though this was a monumental prayer answered for me, of course, the answer does not look exactly how I envisioned it in my mind.

The transition has been a process. Every day and every week, I am intentional about moving the process along. Paying back friends who so graciously spotted me to help me transition. Looking for a place to live. Scoping out the necessities, banks, grocery stores. Trying to get my finances together so I can leave my friend’s home, that she so graciously is sharing with me while I get on my feet. Making time to still take care of my emotional, spiritual and physical health.

With a new position, came heavy new realities, new demands, new responsibilities, new everything. New is hard for me.

And though I know in my spirit that I am not alone and that I am never alone. I must admit, I do feel alone. Whenever I am wandering into new territory, I feel that thing in my spirit that says: mom is no longer here with you. Dad, doesn’t really know how to be here for you. Your family is not concerned with supporting you. And I hurt. Today, I cried in church--not because I was lost in worship. But because I felt so extremely alone. Alone in this life, in this transition, in this moment.

Then this song came on. It goes: “Hallelujah, you have won the victory. Hallelujah, you have one it all for me…” I remember weeping to this song when it felt like I was so alone in college, wondering if I was actually going to make it. I remember weeping to this song at the end of grad school, wondering if I was gonna make it out a terrible relationship. Then I found myself singing this song today… and it was a brutal reminder that I made it then. I will make it again. Not because I am so courageous or able, but because my God is.

So yea… this transition has been smooth, in the sense that I have a roof over my head. Not my roof, but a roof. I’ve never had to go to bed hungry, though some nights, I much rather had eaten something else but my budget didn’t permit. But my emotions have been complicated. There are moments, like my dear friend has, where I just wish my parents could just show up for me...help me pack...move me along. But for whatever reason, perhaps for a glorious reason, God has me walking this journey this way.

This week, I just pray for contentment, understanding, and some joy… I pray that God helps me to see the good in this moment. I pray for my heart and my hurt and my grief. I pray for strength to not wallow in the condition of my heart, my hurt and grief. I pray for patience in my process. And I pray for compassion to find me.

I write this all out, with tears in my eyes, a heavy but grateful heart...and I am giving myself permission to feel it all.

It gets better. I’m getting better.