Today I moved back home with my mother. And I have been experiencing a flood of emotions all day.
On the one hand, I am thankful that I have a place to move back to (not the most grammatically correct sentence, but you get the point). When my finances went awry due to the accident a few months ago, I still held out hope that some divine miracle would occur and I would be able to find a place to live on my own. I had gotten used to my independence. I loved being able to come home, snatch my bra off, and chill on the balcony. Independence was long overdue and I was finally loving it.
However, on the other hand, I viewed the move home as a sign of failure. Yes, I knew people who had moved back home (3 people close to me moved back home within the past 3yrs) but they all had one thing in common- they were unemployed at the time. It’s almost expected that when someone is unemployed, they will move back in with family or friends in order to lighten their financial loan.
But I am employed.
Unfortunately, I am underemployed and underemployment can yield the same results as unemployment.
To be completely transparent, my current job does not allow for me to live 100% on my own. I survived at my last place because I had a roommate. Moving back home was my only real option in order to straighten out the financial issues that arose from last year’s depressive attack (also known as The Dark Place) and this year’s car accident. I am literally still in recovery- physically and financially- from both situations.
The Dark Place took so much from me and the only thing it gave me was 70 unwanted pounds. I would come home from work, shower, grab some food, and go straight to my bed. I never went anywhere. I cancelled on church and stopped attending sorority events. I was always tired and never wanted to talk to anyone. Every day I would think “my family would be better off if I wasn’t alive.” I was on antidepressants and seeing a therapist but I was lying to her- she wanted me to go out and I made her think that I was…truth is, I never went anywhere. The depression threw off my focus. I forgot important dates, some of which were bill due dates. If the bill wasn’t on an automatic withdrawal, that bill did not get paid. my mind was too caught up in myself and my hopelessness to think about paying some random bill. The depression was killing me. It was literally stealing my life.
When GD and I had finally found our place, I began to perk up. We moved in on June 2nd and I was excited to begin my life with him. That is, until we broke up on September 25th of the same year. The break up woke me up and I was finally, truly, coming out of my depressive hole. Everything was looking up. I was making time for me, making time for my loved ones, and making time for God. I knew that when my lease came to an end on May 1st, that everything would be ok. I would be fine. I would be able to find a new place and move in well before this lease ended. Yep; I had a plan and I knew God would back me up.
But He didn’t…
God had His own plan for my life…which included getting rear-ended by a car that had just been rear-ended by a utility truck. Ouch. The physical pain was and still is unbearable. I had been rear-ended twice before (2004 and 2012) but this pain was a million times worse. I literally laid in bed for 3wks, unable to work or do anything other than sleep. There were days where the only thing that I did was use the restroom and crawl back into bed. The car accident threw me all the way off. I needed that money (the lost income) because I needed to move. That money was supposed to cover my moving cost and the cost of renting a new apartment. But there was no work and there was no income. Yet I still held out hope that God would send me some solutions…and quick.
Instead of immediately sending me “solutions” to my moving problems, God chose to address other issues- my passion and purpose. While I dare not attempt to understand the inner workings of God, I’d like to believe that He thought my purpose was more important that my address. Ok God, I can see why that’s more important. God needed me to get to a place where I was able to rebuild my life, and thereby help others, in order to help myself. I had to come back home because it is from my mother’s house that I will be able to truly focus on God’s plan, not mine.
In addition to helping me with my purpose and passion, God did make a way for my moving. His solution included allowing my best friend to journey 80-miles just to help me load up my car because I am too weak to do it on my own. During her time with me today, we laughed and we reminisced…then she made numerous trips up and down the 39 steps that separated my apartment from my car. Look at God! There it was, my biggest worry (how to move from a 3rd floor walk up while suffering from severe back pain), handled eloquently by my God.
Recap: No adult dreams of moving back in with his/her parent. We dream of being able to succeed on our own. However, I am learning that moving back home is not a setback, it’s actually a set-up for something greater. I have learned that God needs to get us to our most humbled point in order for us to truly hear Him. We are His but we allow so much to come in between our relationship with Him. For me, I was allowing my independence to separate me from everyone- including God. And it was when I starting seeking Him again that He began making shifts in my life so that I could be closer to Him.
We can make all the plans that we want but ultimately, God’s way will prevail. Spend today focusing on Him and ask Him what His plan is. remember that even when life does not go as we had originally planned, God is still there working on us and the situation. Open your Bible and turn to Isaiah 55:8. Reflect on what God is saying and commit that verse to your heart and memory.