hang up the coat

the mornings are so beautiful now. full on spring. the sun shines in shy from one side of the yard like a spot light on the azaleas who are standing up so straight, proud and pink and full.  it's all screaming to be appreciated, to be embraced, to not be forgotten.  the coffee tastes better out there in the outside air. 

this morning i was taking it in, and thinking about these crazy days we're living now.  about our beds and our pots and our books sailing across the ocean ahead of us.  about how we're buying things over there from people who are returning to the states- even though we don't have our plane tickets yet, even though we have no offer on our house, even though we don't have our funds raised.  i was thinking about some of our friends who are doing cross-cultural moves too.  friends who's companies are paying for their move, their housing abroad, their housing at home while they're abroad, the kids school.  i was comparing our situations and i was feeling kind of sorry for myself. 

i was thinking about this season we're in as a family and as individuals.  it's really easy to get overwhelmed and to loose sight of the goal. it's easy to get tired, to clamp down and be 'done', to give up, because it's not getting easier, because none of this is 'covered', none of this has any 'guarantees'.  i'm pretty good at getting bogged down in the details.  i'm really good at getting frustrated by the little parts.

then i remembered the karate kid.  i watched it with my boys a few weeks ago, the new one with that adorable jaden smith.  i remember the monotony of the seemingly pointless work he did- pick up the jacket, hang it up, take it down, put it on, hang it up, take it down, drop it, pick up the jacket--- on and on---for hours, then days, maybe even weeks.  i remembered how frustrated dre was, how mad he got. how limited was his view.  and then the power in that great moment when mr. han reveals the big picture. when mr. han, his tutor, his teacher, shows him so beautifully how all those misunderstood hours brought him to exactly where he needed to be to fight well.  the perfect orchestration by one who knew, one who could see the forest through the trees, who knew exactly what the training needed to be- even though it was disguised in the mundane details and the little parts. 

that's where i am right now.  tired of hanging up the coat.  wondering why putting it on and taking it off again even matters.  getting frustrated by just seeing the leaves and bark in front of me, forgetting that my view is limited.

and i thought about faith. about a confident belief.  about the necessity of confidence in faith.  like zoe with her goldfish miracle.  i think the opposite of faith is fear- at least that's how it feels to me and those tend to be my two operating systems.  i prefer faith, but fear is so much easier! 

but what beauty in remembering that, in remembering who my tutor, my teacher is.  that these baby steps of faith, these routine exercises in being dependent, in living in the unknown, in our seasons of frustration, of asking why? and are we crazy? and what are we doing? the seasons of seeing through the glass dimly, of walking to the end of the road- because that's all the direction we've been given, and of then waiting for the next move; all of it,  it's all practice for what comes next.

so i finished my coffee and the sun was a little bolder and all the pink flowers seemed to whisper- 'we're fuller and brighter after the rain, it's not that different'. and for the rest of the day 'hanging up my coat' became a pleasure.