posturing

lately, as i've been cleaning out the unnecessary things we've accumulated over the years and packing up the necessary ones in order to move to charlottesville, virginia, i have felt the urge to either (a.) burst into hysterical laughter, (b.) burst into hysterical tears or (c.) hyperventilate. it seems i am on the edge of a full blown panic attack.

i am deeply attached here--to this place certainly, but more to these people that i've shared so much of life with during this long and beautiful and heart-wrenching season. the thought of detaching from them and being uprooted leaves me feeling like i can't breathe.

as i was driving to church this morning to inaugurate what can only be described as cryfest '08, i remembered the last time i stood at a crossroads and felt some panic. i was pregnant with my first son wyatt and was saying goodbye to life with just winn and me, almost 5 years of intimacy and harmony and freedom to jet off for the weekend or stay out late or sleep into the mid-morning hours, and preparing to say hello to life with another soul, a little human being solely dependent on winn and me for care and nurture and provision. panic seemed an appropriate response to such a daunting task as parenthood.

i was re-reading c.s. lewis's perelandra at the time, and ransom (the main character) and the green lady had an intriguing conversation about the foolishness of "clinging to the old good instead of taking the good that came." that idea hit home, and i thought, "i want to open my hands and let go of what has been so that i can receive the new gift that God is about to give us."

last week, a dear friend of mine reminded me about the importance of having an open-handed posture--that to have open hands to receive, we have to be willing to let go of the things we've been holding onto.

i find that my natural inclination is to cling with a death grip, but i know that deep down what i truly want is to pry open my hands, to let go of this season so that i can receive the good things God has for me next.

it's been pretty clear that God wants us in a new place, and in only a matter of days, i have to say goodbye to these precious people who have loved me and whom i have loved. this morning, when i thought about my inner posture and what i want it to be, the panic subsided a bit. something loosened up in my gut and around my lungs, and i could breathe a bit more freely.

there were still tears (this was our second-to-last sunday at dcf), and believe me when i say there will be more (possibly accompanied by the renting of garments and gnashing of teeth), but hopefully, there will also be the grace of releasing and the free fall of trusting in a God who has knit our hearts together for the long haul, no matter where we are geographically.

we will always be family.