The feel of slightly abrasive new upholstery under my nose reminded me that I was waking up again on one of my dear friend’s couches.
This was the summer of strangeness, of not belonging anywhere in particular, and yet, feeling seemingly at home in various locations.
Our family home sold June 1st. From that point onwards, until today, I’ve slept on four couches, and a number of strange hotels in different countries. I felt homeless, scattered, and yet, oddly comforted because I had found a way to fit all of my essential items into a cute little red suitcase, which fit quite properly into the storage bin on the many plane trips I had recently taken.
I often felt I was undergoing an out of body experience. And on not just one occasion upon waking, it took me a moment or three to sort out which state and country I was currently in.
Disconcerting? Perhaps, yet invigorating because I felt looked after and yes….held.
I had decided to “let Jesus take the wheel.” (Thank you Carrie Underwood for this lovely visual aid and song. I am grateful.)
Can I just say that surrendering your future over to Jesus is scary! To realize that truly, I'm not in control as much as I thought I was of my life, is an eye opening and solemnizing experience.
I mean, I remember giving my life over to him when I was young, but never, ever, did I think I would have to walk through some of the valleys and trek through the stinky muck that I have. Whew! I need a protein bar for endurance and I hate those things.
The truth though girlfriends: my peeps, my girls, my folks and loved ones, have been so accommodating. It’s been a humbling experience to live out of my cute little red and black polka dotted beetle, buying more under garments than usual because I keep losing them, and I don't have my washer and dryer handy to wash them. I know poor me, but not really!
When people show up for you and let you crash on their couch, it gives you a tiny glimpse of what it must feel like to be homeless, to not quite know where you belong.
At 51 years of living, I am now embarking on part “deux.” Or part two, for those who don't speak French. This has given me a totally different respect for families that lose their homes and for individuals who live on our streets. It can be a harsh world out there and kindness comes from some of the most extraordinary places.
This time has had it’s very lonely and numerous soulful times. I have cried quite a lot. I feel stretched, sometimes to the point of breaking. Especially in these last few months when I've had to enter into circumstances I would never have chosen.
Can I just say though, I've felt God’s hand on me, even when I’ve wanted to shake it off in frustration. I’ve yearned for my own mattress and place to call home.
God has been elusive at times but at the end of the day, I’ve always had a place to lay my head down and find rest.
I know this time of wondering what happens next is unsettling, and truth be told, I can get my panties in somewhat of a twist about the whole thing. Being uncomfortable is not my favorite thing and I don't think I’m alone in this. Being uprooted from my home has been distressing to be completely honest.
Now, I shall carry my covers from my brother’s old bedroom down in the basement, to my Mother’s couch in her room upstairs. It's all good. A place to lay my head is what I need at this moment.
“Jesus lay me down to sleep.” Oh, how I am recalling this childhood prayer.
Jill is a mother of three, interior designer, writer of a blog, wedding planner, and daughter of the King. She is in between dwelling places and enjoys doing anything creative. Being on the water is her most favorite place. Her family is incredibly important to her, along with spending time with her girlfriends and going on adventures. She resides in Canada and the USA.