A road map and a neon sign

So it's really happening. 

We're actually moving. 

I suppose that, for some people, the whole SOLD! sign would have indicated this.  But somehow, I've failed to believe it for the past month or so.  It didn't hit me until we were packing up the boxes.

Yes, our house is now roughly 22% travel-ready.  Mostly due to the efforts of my lovely husband, as it takes me three times as long as it should.  Not only because I'm pregnant, but also because everything makes me super nostalgic and I have to sit and cry before boxing it up.

Pregnancy hormones?  Whew - glad I dodged that bullet!

Not to mention, we still don't have a permanent place to unpack all of these boxes.

This is the part I'm really, really not good at.  I'm a planner.  I have been my whole life.  I'm the kind of person who knows exactly what she wants, carefully weighs all the options, figures out the most efficient way of getting there and works with every fiber in my being to do so.

That's why I sucked so hard at the whole getting pregnant thing.  There's absolutely no way to plan, predict, work hard for or control when that would happen. 

The story is much the same on the house front.  We've had two offers in and both have been out-bid.  Not a thing I can do about that.  Can't plan or work for getting a house - at least, not in this market.

I'm committed this time around to praying diligently and trying hard to listen to where God would have us go.  I'm genuinely seeking, knowing that He has always provided for us in bigger ways than we could have ever hoped.  But the answers right now don't seem very clear or obvious.

So, God: I'll totally go where you want me to be.  Truly.  It's just that I'd prefer a road map and a neon sign in case I get lost.  Cool?

For now, we're going home to stay with my mom.  I feel so lucky that this is an option, and I think it makes the most sense given all the other things that are going on.  It will be a huge blessing not to have to be alone with a two year old in my third trimester when Casey goes out of town. 

It will be equally as big a blessing not to have to pay rent, as this is one expensive baby we're having.  (That's a conversation for another time, but let's just suffice it to say that my pregnancy has spanned two insurance plan years.  Good times.)  Seriously, he'd better either be really worth it, or poop gold. 

I know that there is a lot of good coming out of this situation if I choose to see it that way. 

But it's definitely a challenge for me to tame all those unknowns and could be's.