Identity Crisis

Due to some very personal circumstances, my husband and I discussed the possibility of moving.

Moving out of the box.

Now, I am going to go ahead and say that if we DO move, we’re probably not going anywhere anytime soon, but for the first time, it was on the table as an option.

And I realized that I hold part of my identity in this big box we’ve made a home.

Apart from our first six months in a city apartment, we’ve spent our entire marriage here. All four of my living children were born here at home. I experienced a heart-breaking miscarriage here at home. I mourned the death of my mother and celebrated the growth of my relationship with Christ here in our box. I have made and cultivated some of the best friendships of my life while living here. When we moved, we brought it with us. It was our most natural option.

And admittedly, for awhile, I even cursed this providential shelter. I wanted a home like everyone else had. With a separate bedroom for our children, a closet or two…  and a bathroom.

But now I feel like I can’t even blog about the things I had scheduled to blog about without first pouring out this post. For over a week, I couldn’t really write about homeschool or chicken meals, because what was really on my heart was how this blog even holds the proof of my identity in our home, and I might lose that.

Sure I can start a new blog, and feature the old one linked up or re-posted as just another part of our story.

But it won’t be the same as being the Mom that lives in the box.

So for now, I can blog with a lighter heart. 

We are a family under God first, and circumstances afterward. And our identity needs to be found in Him.