on familiarity...

Eleven months, two weeks, and six days ago, the Mr. and I - fresh off a honeymoon plane from Maui - packed up our cars and headed down to our new home – 8 hours away.  Into the land of the unknown. While we were fortunate to be met with a brother and sister-in-law, we were otherwise alone. In God’s perfect grace and timing, a job fell into my lap in a matter of weeks and the Mr. began school the next month.  We found ourselves welcomed into a loving, Gospel-preaching church and into an encouraging Bible study. Everything was falling into place.

And then I had the “Safeway Meltdown.”

I am a creature of habit. I go to the same gas stations, order the same coffee drink, and run the same running route – I could have shopped my grocery store back home with a blindfold on.  But the Safeway here is set up all wrong!  The peanut butter was in the wrong aisle.  I searched high and low and could not find it.  And that was it.  I broke down crying in the middle of Safeway because I couldn’t find peanut butter. And I felt SO alone. And I just wanted to be back “home.”

That said, it had been a tough week at work; I was missing my family; I was getting tired of not knowing my way around the area; and, to top it all off, I was stuck with a screwed up Safeway.  But still, I felt pretty silly.

Since that day, it has become much easier.  I’ve figured out my grocery stores.  I found the peanut butter.

But from time to time, I still find that “Safeway anxiety” rising up in different circumstances.  I am thankful for a husband who takes such sweet care of me and works above and beyond his call of duty to make sure I feel loved.  I am thankful for technology that allows me to keep in contact with my loved ones. And I am thankful for the people who have welcomed us into their lives with open arms.

And still, even though Washington is a big state, when I see a beautiful license plate driving around our small Oregon town, I secretly feel some sort of kinship with them and wonder if we know each other.   Just shows how much I crave familiarity.  I’m in the process of learning that it is okay to feel uncomfortable.  I guess it's a part of growth. All too often, I find myself wishing to be “back home,” when – in reality – our home is here.  We are here. Now.  The Mr. and I have made our home here for the time being.  And it’s time for me to unpack my bags.

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