The move. It is coming whether I close my eyes and hold my breath, or not. Louisiana, really? Can't seem to wrap my brain around that one. I still have my freak-out moments, when I look too far into the future. I get nervous because it seems so foggy. But then I keep forcing my brain to remember the last eight and a half years with my mister. Man, it is good to see all the ways God has cared for me and my family. From our first big move out to Washington, to Afganistan this last year, all these things have been for our good. I wouldn't have planned our path this way, but I also wouldn't change a thing.
I am trying to get excited about this different chapter with my man and my girls. Could it be that I am finally loosening up and just diving in like a true Hickok? If so, I have a lot of catching up to do on that front. The mister was an Army kiddo growing up; he moved to a different state or country each of his four years in high school. He went into the Navy right after graduating and traveled all over the world. Last week we tallied all the places he has actually resided, not just visited: 37! Thirty-seven different homes in his thirty-six years of life. Change is in that man's blood! I, conversely, like my life just like my breakfast, the same every morning: cuppa coffee and two eggs. Without fail. No, I am not kidding. I just keep wanting it to all stay the same.
Yesterday, I was driving around with my girls, and I was thinking about moving and the holidays and finding a place to live and missing my momma. I wasn't paying attention to the road, kind of on auto pilot. I didn't see the school bus in the opposite side of the road, with her stop sign out, or the dad and little girl waiting to cross the street. After some incessant honking by the bus driver, I woke up and slammed on my brakes, literally skidding to a halt. I instantly started bawling (how awkward!) and telling that sweet dad how sorry I was for not slowing down sooner. The angry bus driver was flailing her hands and yelling at me, but luckily I couldn't hear what she was saying just at that moment. The dad was so kind and forgiving. He felt bad that I felt so bad. After apologizing for the tenth time, I drove on. I couldn't believe how locked away I was in my worry about the move. And I just couldn't stop crying! In the back seat, my Lily Girl leans over to Addy and says, "Addy, momma is crying. You should try to rub her back and say it is going to be ok" (Picture both girls harnessed in trying to reach my back to comfort me, but being restrained by their seat belts).
I decided then to be happy! Be happy about this new path. I have my God, my mister, my girls. They are all coming with me. We are in it together. I pray that I am done with this worrying nonsense. It's just no good. Who knows what wonderful things Louisiana holds for us? I am sure, whatever God has planned out will be just fine by me. I pray that I will stop putting my trust in myself, and put it all back on my God who has always cared so well for us.