The wonderful news (if you haven't heard already) is that I have been reassigned to the Clinic helicopter base near the house. I will be home every night, which has been a goal of ours from the beginning. We are committing to this city and looking to buy a house, which means I finally feel like the effort of putting down roots will not be wasted.
The sad news is that this means I only have a handful of flights left to savor this enormity of beauty.
It's an opportunity for my pride to fall, though, and that's always a good thing. It's an opportunity for me to remember how safe, how loved, and how dependent I really am on an all-powerful, all-knowing God who is astonishingly interested in my daily sweet and sour heart. It is hard...to know my blessings, to count them in an unending stream, and yet to feel such pervasive grief for the things that I'm losing. I find myself convinced that this is a good move that will lead to increased life and joy for my family...and also certain that I am all but guaranteed to be miserable for the next six or seven months.
Do you ever feel this way? Both empathizing with yourself and exasperated and impatient with your own childishness? I hope these months will fly by quickly. Particularly this next month.
(cue the Simon and Garfunkel)
August!
Die she Must!
Right...?
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