You know how it feels when you're running in water? You're going somewhere, and your legs might even be moving fast, but you're not really getting anywhere too quick. That sums up our life right now. August is here. School registration for Sophia's senior year is next week. Jim is starting his new ad-venture. Everyone is starting something new and I'm sitting here buried in the past. I'm evaluating all the tasks that need done around the farm and all the things that need purged. I'm running a marathon in water and I can't see the finish line yet.
The reality is that I moved six times in the last eight years. I'm not kidding. Each time I purge a little of my baggage, but to be honest, most of it keeps going with me. Stuff I don't need. Stuff I don't particularly want. Stuff that reminds me of tougher times. Stuff that is no longer my style. Stuff that needs to go. You know how it feels when you're running in water, and you're trudging along with a ton of stuff on your back? I think you get the picture. I'm being brutal with myself this time around. I can't have a new life if I'm dragging the burden of my past, via things, around with me every time I try to start over. If it doesn't serve God, it's got to go.
So I've been burning like crazy... and I'm just getting started. Books, photos, journals, old stories and novels. That's just the beginning. It all seems very heavy to me right now, but every time I light a fire or toss out a handful of pictures, I feel this sense of accomplishment and relief. Is this the Kon-Mari affect? Maybe. Whatever it is, it's cleansing me in so many ways.
I find it interesting that I have been more attached to stuff than the homes I've lived in. When we moved to Southern Illinois from Bloomington-Normal I was enormously homesick. Blo-No wasn't even my hometown, but every time we went back to visit Jim's family, I felt the pangs in my heart. That eventually subsided, but I never really felt that for my own hometown of Vandalia. My mom always said I didn't belong in there. She was right. I didn't. I don't belong in Southern Illinois at all. Don't get me wrong, we love the farm, and if I could transport it to Blo-No, I would in a heartbeat, but this area is not for me and it's not for us. It's time for us to go home. But not quite yet. Until that day comes, I'll keep running through the water, and purging as I go. I hope you enjoy these pictures of Sophia as she sits on the cusp of our garden and senior year. Her romper is from Old Navy and her necklace is Kendra Scott. What activity makes you feel like you're running in water?
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