Worried Minds Think Alike

I've always known that my four year old has some of my traits, but our recent move across the country really put it in plain view.  Before the move we would talk about it as I tucked him in.  Tears would roll down his cheek as he said "I'm not going to make any friends there."  I would tell him that he is wonderful and of course he will make friends.  I would tell him that we could make friends together, but he insisted "I will never make friends!"  I would be thinking how I wished he would be more rational about it and see how silly it is to worry.  Then I would hear those same words coming from my own mouth.  My friend was planning a trip  to come see us and asked me if a certain weekend would work.  I said, "Of course it will work.  I have literally nothing on my calendar after the move.  I will just be sitting around lonely and friendless."  Then she played the part of the rational reassuring one telling me that of course I would make friends and look at all the friends I made in Toledo.  I heard her but I still had my doubts.  And now here we are; loving our new home and already making wonderful lifelong friends.

When it was time to drive away from our home of seven years I said "woo-hoo road trip!"  and turned around to see my four year old's chin quivering as he wiped a tear from his eye and said, "Mommy, I'm sad."  I told him I was sad too and we held hands and let tears fall as we drove out of our beloved city.  It was hard, but by Indiana we had joined the other two in singing along to the music.

Yesterday was his first day at his new preschool on his own.  Before school was an epic meltdown.  He was nervous and did not want to go.  I reassured him, told him things he could do there, told him how much he liked it when we went together, and stayed firm that he was going.  But inside I felt awful because I totally got it.  I was nervous too.  We have been spending so much time together, I was sad to be away from him all morning.  Besides that, I had been there.  I freaked when I had to go to preschool ... and first grade ... and youth club at church.  I remembered how that felt.  But I also know the rewards of doing things that are difficult.  I don't know how I learned it but somewhere along the way I decided that I would force myself to do things that were hard.  I remember clearly that moment as a 14 year old when I walked to the front of the room at my first speech tournament.  All I could think was "why am I doing this?"  After four years of speech team, two years of coaching and ten years of preaching I sure am glad I did it anyway.  I hope my son learns that same thing.  In the meantime I guess I have to keep compassionately pushing him but also keep knowing when not to push.  

I struggle with that for myself.   I love my current situation.  I love being home with the boys, I love being involved at my husband's church and my son's school.  I love volunteering and exploring.  But I also wonder if I should be pushing myself more.  Every time I did supply work (when you fill in for a pastor on a Sunday morning) I was like that 14 year old speech competitor.  As I packed the kids up, took them to a sitter, programmed the church address in my phone and drove to a place where I did not know anyone and was completely unfamiliar with their usual worship routines, I thought "why am I doing this?"  But every single time I was glad I did it.  I felt renewed spiritually, emotionally, physically and mentally.  I connected with people and kept working on the things I love like preaching and leading worship.  

 So what now?  I don't know.  Moving here was right for my husband's career and a great place for all of us to live, but what do I do next?  I have no idea.  And this is coming from someone who decided her career at age 13.  I have always mapped out my life and followed it completely.  Now I have no plan.  Maybe that's ok?  Maybe after years of pushing past the worry I am ready to live in a way that is less planned and more spontaneous? ... sounds too uncertain.  A wise friend told me that God's calling is less of a direct road map and more like the next stone across a foggy lake.  Sounds great, but hard for a person who over prepares and thinks everything out to the point of worry and reluctance.  Maybe I just keep hopping and surround myself with people who will push me to the next rock ... and keep holding my son's hand as we jump together.