29 | 50

It's raining outside. A light rain, not a drenching one. Rainfall has to be one of my favorite sounds on the planet.

Life has suddenly gone from holding pattern to hectic. We planned on this move, but we didn't know when it would happen. Then, in the course of three days, Joshua applies for a job, receives a call-back and interviews, and gets offered the job on the spot. We've known it would be like this... when the time was right, God would line it all up and the starting gate would open and we'd run through it. But now that it's actually happening it's a little surreal.

We spent the day organizing our stuff, most of which is still in boxes from when we moved out of our condo in July. Joshua turned in his letter of resignation at ASH, we sold our washing machine, ran errands to tie up some loose ends. Throughout the day my mind kept coming back to different people that we do life with in Asheville, and it was sad. The hardest part about this move is leaving our community. We will miss the mountain views, and hiking and waterfalls, and the Asheville granola vibe that we've come to appreciate and embrace. But none of it compares to the people that have walked with us over the last almost-decade. It's hard to believe we've been here that long. It's the longest I've ever stayed in one place since my dad went to seminary when I was eight. Writing the letter to the Worthys last night that I posted on my blog took me down memory lane. This season of being planted in Asheville has been one where God rigorously tilled the soil of our souls. I really hope that this next season will bring forth some beautiful fruit.

I don't want to deny the sadness I feel about leaving, but neither do I want to dwell in the melancholy. So I'm heating up some butternut squash bisque and sourdough toast for dinner, and Joshua and I are going to put the kids to bed and snuggle under the covers and watch a movie while the rain pitter-patters on the roof overhead. One day closer to goodbye. One day closer to hello.