Sometimes I refuse to cry.
It’s not because I’m cold-hearted or unemotional. It’s not because I don’t feel anything. It’s not even because I happy all the time.
Truth is sometimes I refuse to cry because crying forces me to actually release emotion. It makes me admit there is something in my life that makes me so uncomfortable that I have a physical reaction to it. Sometimes I refuse to cry because if I cry it means I acknowledge that something is different or is going to be different.
In a little over a week, my family will move. We will leave the home we’ve lived in for 6.5 years. We will leave the region of Alaska we have called home for just under 7 years. We will leave the home we brought our baby boy home to when he was born; where our daughter learned to ride her bike without training wheels; where our son learned to walk; where we had emotional arguments and happiness; where we watched sunsets and sunrises through illness; where we hosted many cookouts and parties; made memories; watched probably over a million cars pass in front of our house over the course of 6 state fairs; leaving behind the climbing tree that MANY kids first learned to climb in; a home with an incredible amount of character; a church family that embraced me in the weakest of moments that loved my kids as their own; friends that have been through many dark times with us as well as many more happy times; babies that have turned into kids; kids that have turned into teens; and a community that we have called home.
Sometimes I refuse to cry because I have connected with some amazing people instantly. Like my Teaching Assistant, Amber, We met and connected within a week. I feel like we’ve been working together for years. Like Rachel, my friend that I can ALWAYS count on to tell me like it is in the most loving and caring and blunt way possible. Like Cassie, who took my kids in her home immediately when I was desperate for childcare and turned out to love my kids like they were her own and has always been ready and willing to help me out of a jam without question. Like Kristina, a friend that has been in the trenches with me and yet we always come out closer on the other side. Or Sarah, my teacher friend who supported me when I went back to work and gave me some deep words of wisdom, or could sympathize when I was struggling with the whole working thing in the first place. Or the countless friends that I connected to and moved away first (jerks 😉 )
Sometimes I refuse to cry because it just plain sucks.
Other times, I refuse to cry because I know that I have a Savior and His plan is perfect. He has big things in store for my family. How do I know? Satan is trying to throw us off track. He only does that when we follow God’s direction and guidance.
Usually I refuse to cry, because I don’t want others to cry.
This is not one of those times. Right now I want to cry.