In With the New, Out With the Old

A few weeks ago, we started the process of moving our possessions into our new home in Texas. In addition to a collection of boxes and furniture which comprised our belongings while we living in our two-bedroom apartment, everything else that we had to our name - our furniture, electronics, clothing, toys, books - came out of the local warehouse where it had been sat in storage over the past five months, awakened from a long journey back in March from New Jersey.

This is our fourth move as a family, so this isn't our first rodeo in terms of packing boxes and the general stress of figuring out how objects in one context ought to be presented in a new one. However, this is our first corporate move, our first move of significant distance, and consistent with a growing family, the largest move in terms of scale and scope.

In a previous post, I had waxed on the concept of home. Now that we've moved in and are settling into our new digs, I'll acknowledge that there's a greater sense of comfort and establishment, though my words still very much stand. And even as boxes are opened and trinkets are placed on mantles, it's heartening to see things which are familiar and comfortable, like that childhood teddy bear.

But not everything that we unpacked found a place in our new home. First of all, there were things that came out of boxes which fell into the category of "this-is-garbage-why-did-we-even-keep-this"; others which fell into the category of "there's-nowhere-to-put-this"; and the occasional "snow-related-items-aren't-needed-in-Houston" objects. Conversely, we found ourselves in Home Depot, Target and Walmart purchasing items which we realized that we needed and didn't have.

This led me to two main thoughts:

First, I mentioned the concept of home and comfort.  As nice as it was to get our furniture back and sleep on our familiar bed, familiar relationships are the things that really bring comfort. That regular weekly visit to the grandparents, the neighbor with whom you walk to the train station, the recurring Community Group potluck dinner - these are things that provide some degree of familiarity and comfort. We're grateful and blessed to see some of those starting to grow where we currently live and over time, those will too be sense of great comfort and familiarity.

Second, all of the things coming in and out of the house is a microcosm of life. As we move into different seasons, our lives change. Some things stay the same, but a lot of things don't. And as life gets uncluttered and slowly moves into focus, there's a balance between wistfully letting go of certain things and bringing into one's life things that will become increasingly prominent. But the good news is that the the greatest source of familiarity and comfort - at least to a Christian - is constant. Boxes go out of the house, boxes come into the house, but God and His love stay the same.