I have to admit that moving back in with one’s parents is a humbling experience in your late-twenties. (Ugh, am I not even in my mid-twenties any more?) Yet, that is exactly what C. and I are doing at the end of August.
You see there was C. quitting his job last fall… and then the economy took a turn downward… and then the the student loan that needed to be paid off… and then the rent that went up… and then… and then…
And then we were faced with a debacle: Continue to live our independent lifestyle and have C. commute with traffic to a different state each day or move in with a gracious parent and have me commute against traffic to a different state each day. Our bank account will clearly benefit from Option B.
I’m thankful that my mom didn’t hesitate to welcome us into her home. I truly am. Plus, I think that she can benefit from having us around, as we will be able to help her with the gardening and house repairs that have overwhelmed her in the last year. I’m not just saying that to justify the move or cling to some shred of dignity.
Nevertheless, the transition is difficult and it has made me realize how selfish and worldly I can be sometimes. I want my own apartment/home. I want to be contributing to my 401(k) regularly. I want to take vacations to ski in Colorado or join a friend when she offers me the chance to join her on a work trip in Hawaii. I want a kitten. I want to start saving to support starting a family. I want to buy a new computer because my current one is clearly dying. I want… I want… I want…
It’s challenging not to compare myself to friends who went into more lucrative careers. People who are now buying homes or are going on 10-day vacations to Italy. (Note: I am still happy for them and their accomplishments. I don’t want anyone to feel like they have to downplay their accomplishments when I’m around.)
But then I have situations happening around me that that make me chastise, “How dare I feel bad for myself!” I’m not trying to figure out whether or not I have citizenship in this country. I’m not declaring bankruptcy. I didn’t have a miscarriage that turned into a life-threatening situation. I have a full-time job and a part time business. I have a loving husband. I have food in the pantry and fridge.
As the song goes, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try, sometimes you get what you need.” I’m praying that this is true. I pray that the upcoming months don’t give me what I want. (Ooomph. That’s a hard prayer.) I pray that they give us what we need: the opportunity to be fruitful and fulfilled in our jobs, church, and community. The chance to be refreshed. C.’s dad recently prayed for us and prayed that we feel refreshment like a waterfall rushing over us. And that’s what I need. I need it more than a kitten, burgeoning bank account, or family ski vacation. I need the promise of Isaiah 40:29-31.
He gives strength to the weary and increases power to the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
