Allie has moved around much more than I have.
Born and raised in Anchorage, Alaska, I’ve been there the majority of my life. Before I took that magic pill that transformed me into an adult overnight, my family (older brother, mom, and dad) would often take trips to the lower 48 where the rest of my family was, southeast coast states and such. I remember being a kid visiting family in San Antonio and experiencing for the first time my future addiction–funnel cakes–at Six Flags Fiesta Texas, and roasting under the heat of dad’s home state of South Carolina as my brother and I were taken captive by our older cousins and brought to The Celebration Station (aka Chuck E Cheese ver. 2.0). A few mission trips throughout my high school years to Mexico and Guademala y’know, nothing big, a week here or two. But then I went to London for a summer, just recently in 2012, for an art internship with Youth With a Mission. Passports, clothes, money, identification cards, working phones, Europe-exclusive phone chargers, visas…. I finally realized how stressful, even for a carefree dude like myself, something as simple as packing could be.
As I write this, we’re both currently in Texas; I took a month off work and most of life in Icicle City to try to make up for a lot of lost time together. As you know (or not…?), our relationship has been long-distance, me in Alaska and her in Texas. Being that I’m a full-time college student at the University of Alaska Anchorage with one year left until graduation, I can’t really move down to Texas. And for personal and well-justified reasons as well as many other weights of the daily grind, Allie couldn’t just drop everything and move up (again) to Alaska. Well now the plan is for her to come back up with me–the ticket is bought and everything. The era of the long-distance relationship is coming to an end, yo!! What up, sunRISE!
All the stresses and sacrifices that come along with this new plan put mask up the victory of this idea; sometimes it doesn’t even feel like one. It feels like I’ve put more stress on her, like I messed up. And I’m beginning to think that’s selfish. Of course it’s not going to be pleasant leaving that good job that’s only a ten-minute walk down the street. Of course it’s not going to be all rainbows and cupcakes moving back to the place you intentionally got away from in the first place. I’m not exactly doing her a favor, and few things hurt more than to see her with a heavy, stressful heart, knowing there is little I can do to rescue her from the weight of reality. You suck, reality.
But I wouldn’t have pushed this if I didn’t think it would be utterly worth it. And I didn’t act without her approval and wise counsel. Sometimes we just have to think ahead and put on the big boy panties when we want things done. The Lord always puts us where to go, and I think all we have to do, as my parents brought to my attention, is pray to see it.
So don’t pray for us…Pray WITH us.
Because, dude. Packing freakin’ SUCKS.
Got any fun packing/moving horror stories? 😉