the other side of myself

I wonder what my day would have looked like had I still been living at home.

The tea would taste the same, probably. My stress over the start of this trimester at uni would be the same, probably. The knowledge that I have friends scattered in different directions is the same, most definitely.

I’ve moved, and these things remain the same.

But many things haven’t.

I like to think my relationship with God will change, for the better, as I hope it always will. Constantly learning, growing. Perhaps this move will help pull some of these lessons along as I continue to navigate the rocky roads of adulthood.

(Speaking of rocky roads: be prepared to buy four tires instead of one. Stuff happens, ladies and gents, even things we don’t plan on happening. Who knew.)

I like to think I will continue to change. As already established in the heart of this blog, I love a good self-reflection. And part of that is to be encouraged by how far I’ve come, and by thinking of the future possibilities. I think back to previous times I’ve moved (as an eleven year old and then as an eighteen year old), and can’t help but wonder how different I would be had I not moved. Had I not met the people I did. Had I not experienced the unique highs and lows of each location.

But I try not to dwell on that too much, because ultimately: who am I to question the hand of God? I don’t have the right to ask Him to turn back time. But I am also human, and turning back time is something I occasionally wish to happen. Never enough, however, that I would change the people I know, the places I’ve been, the things I’ve learnt. It’s more of a curious question; that intrigue into a life that will never see the light of day. A direction that did not fit into God’s plan.

What else hasn’t remained the same?

I can no longer ask my Mum what we’re having for dinner fifty times a day. Well, I could, but the answer wouldn’t benefit me one bit and I don’t think she’d appreciate it, either. If the car does something strange, I can no longer hand it over to my Dad. I can ask for advice, but there’s only so much one can do from seven hours away. And also, there comes a point where we have to do things on our own, isn’t there? If my Mum cooked me food forever, or if my Dad dealt with my car forever, I wouldn’t ever really come into my own. And despite the hardships, that’s what I want. And I think a lot of other people want that, too. We want an opportunity to figure things out, to see what we’re like when we’re standing on our own two feet. That’s not to say it’s easy, because I nearly cried at the tire repair place today, and I still have no idea if it’s ‘tire’ or ‘tyre’, and I still like knowing I can reach out to adults who are more adult-y than me to help me when things get too much.

But the things that are happening for me now are happening for a reason. I need to remind myself more often that God is in control, that even when things are a little strange (because things are strange… well, frequently) He has already walked this path. He has gone ahead of me as well as walking next to me.

I’ve moved out of home. And it’s pretty dang cool. Other than the bills.

Sarah xx

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