Bloom

My life has been one defined by constants. Constantly uprooting. Constantly reestablishing routines, friendships, and hang-outs. Constantly in some state of spring cleaning. Constantly stressing. You'd think that almost four decades of this kind of life I would want to shout from the rooftops, "Stop the constants!" like a crazy woman with her hair on fire. Yep. You would think that. Truthfully, I do say that. I just don't take to the shouting route to deal with the crazy constants. O.K., maybe every now and then you'll hear that scream escape.

I choose to fertilize what I do have. Roots. Yes, I said roots. They may be yanked up and at times look a little shabby, but with a little tender care, our family roots are back and ready to grow stronger wherever we have transplanted ourselves. That root system is what allows us to grow; allows us to enjoy our new duty station for all that it can provide; allows us to cry during the moments we are missing a previous duty station ( trust me, no matter how good the new assignment is, you're still going to have to deal with misty eyes when we think of what we left behind.); allows the constants of change to be a little bit more manageable. Our roots are made from our faith, our family, and our devotion to living our life with "no regrets" and as few "we wish we wouldas" as possible.

We've been here four months. It's been four months of trying to fertilize the roots of our family and of ourselves. I think we're managing. We've established some level of routine. We've begun exploring our new city and state. We're reconnecting with family and seeing friends we haven't seen in many, many years. We're becoming more involved in our church and finding the joys of a new parish. It's been an amazing high of emotions: exhilarating to be in such a diverse richly steeped in history place, lonely at times with not knowing who to call or who is going to stop and become a new friend, frightening at others as we realize we've been gone from the mainland America a long time and a lot has changed, and down right confusing. (Seriously...why did that person decide to honk...why does the name of a street change even if you don't turn...is going 10 miles per hour over speed-limit postings really not fast enough?)

This is not the "paradise" we left behind. It is, however, our new normal. It has it's own charm...like seasons, choices, and distance to take road trips without running quickly into the ocean. Life is good. We're still tending the soil around around our recently uprooted roots. We're still having the normal pains of moving to a new place. We're still replenishing.

No matter what, we are blooming where we have been planted. Only strong roots can produce the lovely blooms. All it takes is for a moment to stop and look at the buds beginning to spring forth. Bloom.