Here is something I've learned about about myself on a much deeper level in the 10 days I have lived in Cleveland:
I have some social anxiety.
Take the other day for instance. I went to our local Giant Eagle (missing you, Hy-Vee). As I stood in the check-out line waiting my turn, I realized that I didn't have a Giant Eagle card. Can you check out at Giant Eagle without a Giant Eagle card? I wonder how long it will take me to get one after she's already rung up my food and realizes I don't have one. What if the Giant Eagle Card is a non-factor but my credit card won't work because we keep forgetting to update our address? Either way, I'm going to have to apologize to the people behind me for the added time. When I started mentally rehearsing my apology (and sweating), I realized I might have a small problem.
Probably one of two things happened to you while you read that last paragraph (which is 100% true and non-exaggerated, I might add). You either stopped reading at the third "Giant Eagle Card" reference for annoyance's sake, or you took a sigh of relief knowing that you're not the only one who has ridiculous inner monologue issues.
There is a point to all of this.
It's going to take work for me to lay down new roots. I've been realizing the past few days how easy it would be for me to stay inside our house and never leave. To exist with my small family unit and never venture much past my own street. There is rain in the forecast for the next few days which, for someone like me, is a relief because it gives me an excuse to not have to try anything new. To stay in my bubble.
|The old bubble. I made Jake take this unfortunate picture with me at 6:30 a.m. right before he left with our janky trailer for Cleveland. That's right, Jake. I said "janky."|
But, the last time I checked (and I checked), God didn't say, "Stay put, Molly. Be comfortable where you are. I'll get back to you when you're ready."
I'm never ready.
But he said to me, Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.Despite my moments of panic, I feel like a blank slate. A person cut off from distractions and responsibilities; untethered to the comfortable and easy.
And, I've got to tell you, amidst the sweating and heart palpitations is a layer of anticipation (the good kind). Because blank slates have the potential to be great things.
So. I'll start putting down roots. I'll adhere firmly. Closely. Loyally. Unwaveringly.
I'll cleave to Cleveland.
|I took this picture on Father's Day. So far, in the 10 days we have lived here, we've seen the sun about 3 times. That may be an exaggeration. Maybe.|