A Clean Sweep

That makes it sound as if I had accomplished something. And I’m not sure I have. Sure, life is fun and I have learned a lot, but I’m not so sure I’ve done a whole lot.

Perhaps I do need to sweep it all clean and start anew. What a chance that would be, to finish it all out, to be able to come and sit and begin something fresh that I haven’t done before. It is an idea.

I kinda like it. It is kinda like what moving is like. You take all your things and leave all your friends and sweep the cobwebs from behind where all your furniture stood before and you go to a new place.

And for a while, things seem really odd—no one looks familiar, you don’t know how to find the grocery stores you like, and you don’t know who is around to talk to, or who can’t really be trusted.

It does present some challenges. But, on some levels, when you move, where you end up is pretty much the same.

You find somewhere to put the ketchup bottle and the measuring cups and the spoons. You figure out your way around town—after getting lost a few times. And you learn to trust others—and your gut when you are talking to them.

And for all the changing locations, you are the same person—only your GPS co-ordinates have changed. You still have the same fears, the same hang-ups, the same times when you know you said the right thing—but no one understands it.

That all happens, too.

You go, and you come, and you find that people are still people.

It’s why I have to trust that someone else is there, too.

I trust that there is one who goes before me, follows behind me, and is walking alongside me—to keep me from getting too carried away in myself. I hope in that promise. Especially when I cannot see my way through. It is a big thing. But I can hope in that. Thank God I don’t think I have to pack that in a box and carry it with me. I might forget the very part that has my own grace nestled inside. I’m glad that grace shows up on its own.

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