When I was a 19yo, I married and moved away from my family. Far away. Farther than any of my siblings. I left a family where we would enjoy getting together for family dinners. My sibs who all lived within 80 miles of my parents home would come with their kids. Aunt Karen loved to have them around. See there was 7 years between myself and the next oldest sib. The original four are pretty close in age. Then there was me. Those dinners were all the more meaningful to me because of that.
There was no email telling me so, but when God called us away and kept us away, I felt he might keep my own family, my kids and theirs near me. Say an 80 mile radius? It is not meant to be.
How about a 950 some mile radius instead? With that sort of drive, no one is going to be popping over for dinner every week. Not every month. Maybe once a year. I haven’t spent any time asking why. To me that’s just unnecessary. God sends, you go. But can I have a bit of a pity party?
This really stinks. I have grown to love certain things about Denver, but I’m not in love with Denver. Obviously my kids aren’t either. They are all back in the midwest where they started! Of course as my son once pointed out “Mom we came to Denver so we could adopt the girls.” Our three youngest. For those of you who know me, this hasn’t been a great selling point; but when God says step out in faith, you step out in faith.
We were on track to be young grandparents. Then infertility hit my daughter and it took a few more years than planned. Ok. Now we are blessed with little Joshua and what? Move them away? They lived in a 15 mile radius! Even better! Now they will be the farthest in Madison,WI.
It just doesn’t seem fair. There is no lesson to be learned in this blog. No moral of the story. Just hurt. I’ll deal. Have to.