A Year in the Life: What Are We Really Looking For?
We hit the one year mark this week for our life in the desert—one year that we’ve been here, one year we have left.
It’s like being smack in the middle of a seesaw where—for a split second—everything is balanced. You know that (soon enough) your side will tip down and you’ll find yourself sliding off its end and bruising your tailbone on the ground before getting back on and pushing back into the air, but in this moment, you feel weightless. I admit that the bruised tailbone thing sounds a little negative, but the truth is that I fully love being here…and that sits in the balance of knowing that I will still find it in me to be excited for the next move when it comes.
In the meantime, I feel like we’re celebrating.
{I have no explanation for the look on Tiny’s face.}
We’re celebrating because I’ve seen so much growth while we’ve been here. The Man has promoted. The kids have all gone up a grade (and several clothing and shoe sizes). I’m 3/4 of the way through my next novel draft and back to running longer distances at faster speeds.
We’re celebrating because we’ve done hard things this year. And hard is good, even as it’s also still hard.
We’re celebrating because there have been a lot of really incredible gifts. A fantastic homeschool community. Wonderful neighbors. A church that’s feeding our souls (even if we' don’t get there as often as we’d like). Endless trails to run. Desert sunrises (and sunsets). Hummingbird sightings. Friends in our home on a regular basis. Not having stairs for the dog to fall down.
{Here’s last year’s picture for comparison purposes. If it’s not one kid making a face, it’s the other…because as we all know: family pictures are not for the faint of heart.}
And sure: there have been moments of struggle and heartbreak and grief—and I could tell you with startling specificity what they were—but they don’t negate the celebration. Instead, they build enough contrast that the good shines even brighter beside them.
It’s been a year. We have another year to go. And I’m thankful for the one that’s passed and for the one we have left. After that, God has another adventure for us, and while I may get tired just thinking about it (another move, another command, another starting over from scratch), I know that I will find plenty to celebrate then too.
Because we see what we’re looking for.
And I’m looking for the thousand hidden joys that, once you’ve seen them, can never be unseen, the way once you’ve found the objects hidden on the I Spy page they seem so obvious that you wonder why you even had to look.
We look back. We look forward. But do we know what we’re really looking for?
Most days, I remember that I do.
