Wow. Heading for the big 50... thought sure life would go on pretty much as it had. I'd tend to my world and my garden. I continue to write, and be around my children and grandchildren, but I'd be a year older. Life would continue as it had. My address would be the same as it had for the past twenty years. I would only be a year older. Maybe a bit grayer.
Maybe things would get better with finances, maybe I'd color my hair, (okay that might be a given). and I would be right here. Right here, where I planned to live out my life. Right here with my husband and family and friends. A year older, and hopefully wiser.
But... life happened along the way, and now... I find I may not get to live in my comfortable rut. Now, thanks to finances and my wonderful hubby, I may be pushed to move to a new state. A new world, as far as I'm concerned. Perhaps it will be wonderful, perhaps it will hold the key to new dreams.
Perhaps I'll hate it. Who knows?
For now, just the thought of moving out of my comfort zone, moving away from my family, scares me. So, I'm praying hard.
A part of me wants to pray nothing changes. And my life goes on as it has. Me working through the moments of my days in rote, since I know it so well. But I remind myself, it hasn't always been easy here, either. I just know my way around better.
A part of me prays I'm ready and willing to take the risk and believe that God has my life cradled in his hands.
And he does. He carries me no matter where I go, no matter what path I choose.
Now I have only to remember that. In case my life is uprooted. In case the changes that seem to be in the wind come to light.
Wrote this five years ago and thought I would post it now, because the changes did happen. 5 years ago we moved to Arizona. But five years later, we are living back in Colorado. Not to say a lot didn't happen in those five years. Perhaps I'm a bit smarter and wiser. I lost people I loved. Lost my dog. Felt like I lost bits of my sanity and then gained some. I had to come back to a house that needed special care after having renters. Not fun.
Finished a couple of books. Had them published. Still wishing people would pick them up and read them and then leave a review.
Life still happened. Good and bad. And strangely I feel as though I am living in a bit of Deja Vu. I guess moving back into a house you lived in for 20 years can make one feel that way.
Who says change has to be so scary? (okay sometimes it's downright terrifying.) And who says once you're gone, you can't go back home?