dancing again

I moved into a new place today. It's another temporary place, but this time with an end to "temporary" in sight. Come January 8th, 2011, I will finally have a place to call home in Portland, Oregon. It's been a rough start in this city, rougher than I could have imagined. Maybe it's because I'm still right in the middle of it, living out of suitcases and boxes, so the emotions are still very fresh and intense, but the last 2 and a half months have been some of the hardest I think I have been through in a while.

While moving some of my stuff today, I started sorting through some boxes and pulled out some old journals. I could literally feel all of the emotions I poured out on those pages over the last 3 years of my life. I sat on the hardwood floor of this cute little studio apartment, and just cried and thanked God for how far He has brought me... again.

I tucked my journals away, reminded myself that the pain from those pages were over, put the current pain I am now facing aside, popped in a favorite mixed CD, and just danced. I danced like I haven't danced in a long time. OK, that's not totally true, I danced Saturday night, and maybe that was the catalyst for tonight's dance, but before Saturday, it had been a while since I found myself dancing.

I think that's a good sign... dancing. I think it means, for me, that I am remembering that God has got me. When things get tough I rest in that truth, but when things start to fall into place and I see or feel a glimpse of hope, I dance in it! The good and the bad, God is with me through it all, and I respond to it in different ways, some good, some bad, but none the less, God deals with my responses and He sticks with me... through it all. The last few months I've just been clinging to Him, with no energy left to do much else.

Tonight, we danced.

Thank You, Lord, for Your faithfulness. For seeing me through this hard time. For providing more than enough, even when I wasn't able to see or acknowledge it. Thank You for fighting for me, and with me. Thank You for not giving up on me, even when I yelled at You that night in the car. Thank You for loving me, and not the way people love pizza or the way I love Dean Martin, but purely, recklessly, abundantly and unabashedly loving me. I could never have done or be doing this without You.

Thank You that I get to go home next week and visit with family and friends... something I've been longing for since I moved here.

And thank You that when I come back, I can put away the suitcases, recycle the boxes, do a little dance, and finally be at home...

in Portland, Oregon.