Crossroads

There seems to be a moment from each transition in my life that remains frozen in time, suspended in my memory as the marker of passing from one phase to the next. Crying and lonely in the futon at my Aunt Sheree's house the night before I moved into the dorms at BYU. Boarding the plane bound for Chile as a missionary. Arriving at the temple, wedding dress in hand the day that I married Nat. The night that Nat and I moved out of our apartment in Provo he drove around to our favorite spots and I cried, mourning the end of the beginning. That was followed by a summer in Samoa and five years in Madison. The end of that phase of life was punctuated by a(nother) hard pregnancy, selling a house, and defending a thesis. We packed a very pregnant momma, two small boys and a portable DVD player into the car and began our Maryland adventure. When I stepped out of the car here in our neighborhood there was another moment to remember. The neighbors were all out playing and Kristin introduced herself as her little almost year old baby toddled down the sidewalk. During these two years we've added another family member, a few more church callings and so many dear friends to our list of assets.

Now we are off to another adventure. The end of this remains to be seen. Nat will finish off this round of interviews and finish up his work here while I move in with Ashley in Utah. As I sit on this uncertain threshold I feel (inexplicably) calm. I packed boxes while commenting to the boys that I didn't know where we would be opening them again and it felt exciting instead of scary. I feel so confident that this is the Lord's plan for our family and that is all I need to know. It took some doing to get here but I'm pleased with the lessons I have learned along the way.

I wanted to remember some of the sweet parts of packing this house up. This time around I had six little hands helping me pack (or, in Isaac's case unpack) boxes. I had wonderful friends who took my children. Then my dear mother and father in-law came in and like miracles, packed up whole rooms at a time, loaded the boxes into the van and drove them over to another friend's house who insisted I store my belongings in her basement rather than rent a storage unit. Then the neighbors and church members showed up and loaded the furniture onto the truck. Then Kristin loaned me laundry detergent so that I could wash some shorts for Noah, who never seems to have shorts. People are so good.

Then there are these sweet, sweet boys. Who, despite the upheaval in their lives, are trying to be good and helpful. What more could I ask for, really?