Every night when I put her to bed–in a big rush because by bedtime I am finished, just finished–she asks, “Are we going to do anything tomorrow?”
She just wants to know what the day will bring. (She always hopes that it will bring McNuggets and a Kit-Kat candy bar and possibly a new stuffed animal.) Once she has the information, she snuggles under her blankets and says good-night. She can sleep in peace when she knows what tomorrow will hold.
I’m the same way. I’d really like to know exactly what the future holds. That’s why this past year has been particularly difficult for me.
A little longer than a year ago, our lives became shrouded in a fog of uncertainty. We didn’t know where my husband would be working. Therefore, we didn’t know where we would be living. Those are two pretty big deals.
I slept away some of my dismay. I fed my anxiety a lot of cookies and ice cream. At long last and in slow-motion, the answers came.
And now we know what is going to happen–it’s begun to happen already.
He has a new job. We know where we’ll live. It’s just a matter of getting from here to there, picking our way through the landscape of smaller uncertainties: will the children adjust? who will rent our house? what moving company will we use? what schools will the kids attend?
He moved to California four months ago. In four and a half months, we’ll join him, so this long stretch is nearly halfway done. I’m starting to wonder where I’ll grocery shop and how hard it will be to adjust to sharing a closet again.
This all reminds me that even when I don’t know what the future holds, I know Who holds the future. And that is some comfort in the midst of all the unanswered questions.