Tag Archives: spiritual journeys

Choose your Identity

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Oh, beloveds! I’m back! I’ve missed you! It’s beeen a long time! So much has happened! Our current house has sold, and we’ve got the keys to our new one! We haven’t “officially” moved in yet, so we are bouncing between the two locations. We are in transition. Homeless with two homes. Camping out at the new house, and on bare essentials at the old house. Boxes are everywhere. I’m feeling a little lost when it comes to my identity. I’m not sure if I am still a city girl or a country bumpkin in the making. We haven’t had a “summer” yet because we are still doing all the things required for transitions… so no relaxation for us! It’s coming. When we get there.

We got the keys!

I suppose the world we live in talks a lot about transitions. Jobs. Moving. Identity based on where you see yourself. Gender identity – now there’s a hot one. Goal setting. Personal achievements. Past achievements. At the risk of sounding philosophical, identity is very complex. I’m not sure it is all simple DNA. Even from a science girl. I don’t think it’s about your skillset either. I’m not sure it’s as easy as picking your character on a video game. Can we choose our identity? What does that mean? No simple answer was found for that muse, my friends. As I said, I think we humans are too complex for such a simple, one-time choice. Our identity ebbs and flows — I think. Or does it have a clear direction? Okay – enough of that musing, my brain hurts and it’s not the direction I wanted this post to go.

Still, I do want to chat about identity a little. Perhaps we need to break it down from human identity into a simpler innate object: like our new house. A few weeks ago, I wrote about giving our new property a name. A name, because names are important. They are part of that bigger identity assemblage of thoughts. You’re welcome to read about that post here. So, what did we name our new place? It’s just over 4 acres of land. About an acre and a half of that is forest. We have a chicken coop, a barn/garage/outbuilding with a loft. A pond and a pool and a garden. The house was built in the 1900s with a big ol’ wrap-around porch. It has character and I love it. It’s exceptionally quiet and I feel like I am at a retreat when I am there. It’s going to have work – for sure. It’s going to be part of mittonmusings.com – undoubtedly.

It has a Barn!

So the name? Oh. Well. As I dragged my dear husband from property to property over the last few months, this one checked all my boxes (see above). I’d been praying. The hubby kept me balanced. He reminds me that we are not farmers. I cannot have a goat (yet). I can have a few chickens but “it is not a farm”. When the purchase agreement went through, I was telling everyone we bought a farm. He reminded me “It was not a farm”. It was an old house with some property. Therefore, I can say that my hubby actually chose the name, based on the diverse identity of our land. We hereby dubb the new house:

“ITSNOTTA” Farm

Do you love it? Quirky? Dumb? Different? Not very original? All are part of the identity. You can judge. Go ahead. People judge identity all the time. They can because of that complexity we mused about in paragraph two. The apostle Paul also had to defend his identity… and the identity of those he was trying to serve. In Ephesians 3 (one of my favourite chapters by the way!) he reminds us that not only God’s chosen people are to be part of the family of God. Jews and Gentiles alike are “allowed” to be joint heirs with Christ based on their beliefs, not on their heritage. That’s one part of my identity I don’t have to question: I am a child of God. Am I a farmer? I don’t think so. Is our new property going to have a garden and some animals? Yes. But, “it’s not a” farm. And Paul was an apostle, but not a Jew. Choose your identity? That’s complex. But you can choose the next step you make in this journey. And maybe, just maybe, your steps will lead you on a path to “enjoy the promise of blessings because you belong to Christ Jesus”. Ephesians 3:6b. Then come on over to “Itsnotta” and we can chat about choosing identity over lemonade on the porch.

The rocking chair is waiting for you!

Anticipation

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Definition: anticipation (noun) “a feeling of excitement about something that is going to happen in the near future”

Cambridge Dictionary

You’ve all been there. Christmas Eve. Job interview. Wedding day. Those butterflies in the stomach that keep you up at night. A mix of unknown fears and hopes for the future. Plans to do this or that. Expectations. For me, right now, it’s 10 days till we get the farmhouse keys!! And I am full of anticipation. I lie awake thinking about paint and plans and occasionally wander into the “oh my what have we done?” thoughts. Emotions are funny that way.

I’m sure the hubby is questioning his sanity and life choices right now. His wife is googling “best goats for first-time pets” and Pinterest boards on what colours to paint chicken coops. We are chatting about “rural” internet towers, cell phone services, and figuring out what the purpose of a sump pump is. I love it. The hubby? Lamenting about our current neighbourhood and the dog-walking route that he won’t be taking in the near future. And his bank account dwindled away like chicken feed. Literally for chicken feed perhaps.

Anticipating can be scary though. Our human nature wants to know. We want to be ready. No one likes being thrown into a situation they were unprepared for. I suppose because of this we tend to do our homework – well – at least some of us do. Some of ya’ll thrive on the adventure of the unknown. Fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants people love the adrenaline rush of anticipatory feelings. It’s “fun” to you to take the risk. To jump in with both feet. Others try to research all about future endeavours so we know what might happen when. Can you identify what kind of person you are? Your partners? Family?

Today is the last day of high school for our middle son. He’s been challenging for me because he’s one of those fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants guys. And he’s good at it. Two days before post-secondary applications are due, he scrolls and accepts a program and applies. Volunteer hours are due at the end of this week. Four long years he’s had to collect signatures. We signed off on them today. One on behalf of some other leader. God makes us all unique, and we must learn to deal with people. But, oh, my mother’s heart.

I guess the fact remains that no matter what kind of person you are there are no guarantees. We will all face our Maker one day. I don’t know of anyone who’s cheated death yet. We don’t like to think about that one, do we? Have you prepared yourself for that conversation? That’s gonna bring up some feelings, isn’t it? Oh friend, I hope you seek wisdom when regarding your eternal home. Ask the hard questions. Do your research. The Bible tells us that if we seek wisdom, it will be given to us. Time to do some research! You won’t get the chance to sign off on behalf of someone else. It’s work we have to do on our own. Be confident that your future anticipation is one of true excitement. That you know your heart is right with God and others. Only then can you dream about your “many mansions”. Mine’s gonna have a cute painted chicken coop.

Photo via : Backyard Chickens.com

Blessings!

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Oh, beloveds! What a week it has been! What a few weeks it has been! Apologies if I haven’t been keeping up. There has just been no time to do regular things like keeping a Blog. I’m jumping ahead of myself. Rewind. We bought a house! Not just any house…. an old-century farmhouse on 4 acres of land! That dream of chickens you’ve heard me talk about 100 times… it’s coming true! I’m trying to convince the hubby we also may need a small goat. That may take some time. He’s a work in progress. Anywhoo… I am super excited. But terrified.

The emotions have run high. We raised our kids in this house. Our first house. Twenty-one years in this house. So. Many. Memories. And a whole lot of clutter. I’ve just begun to unearth and box up “stuff”. Some things hold dear memories. Some do not. Some hold memories for others and I’m not allowed to cut out those things because of their thoughts. It’s a learning experience for all of us! I ask myself, “Does this hold emotional attachment for me?” Marie Kondo would be so proud. So. Many. Memories.

Photo by Karolina Grabowska

I’m asking myself “Why?” “How can things contain emotion?” Or how can other things contain absolutely no attachment? I don’t have the answer. I am sure there is some deep psychology behind emotional attachment to inanimate objects. I’m sure those who work with hoarding and OCD behaviours have all the answers. I’m sure there are psychologists and therapies for the stress of moving and how to communicate appropriately to your grown children that they need to get rid of Legos. Or why I can’t throw away a rubber band (because I may need to it wrap something — and safety pins cost money?) Choices need to be made.

Now don’t get me wrong… I love a good purge and clean. Still… thinking about the whole house at once is overwhelming. Slowly, like eating an elephant, we take one bite, and then another, and another… until eventually all will be packed in a box and neatly loaded on a truck. It will be big big changes for all of us. And I count it as a blessing.

I have begun to see the blessing in memories. I have begun to see the blessing of time and how God has allowed this season of life to shape and mould each of our children to life beyond the nest. To see the hubby and I embrace, dare I say, retirement planning? To see the blessings in our finances to be able to carry mortgages and costs and know He holds our future. To see Hope where many do not. To wonder in excitement about a new, quieter lifestyle in the country. To learn new skills. To make mistakes and work through them.

The Bible tells us not to store up treasures on Earth and to not put our trust in Earthly measures. Yet Jesus witnessed life here among people and “stuff”. Maybe he didn’t have Lego to pack, but I am sure there were precious “things” that belonged to Him. Did Mary save a piece of “useless” straw from the manger because she was emotionally attached to it? Maybe not.

I’ve convinced myself that God gives us things. Tangeable, hold in your hand, physical things, because He knows we need them as practical reminders of all that He has given us. Peace, Hope, Comfort, Joy, and Pain. Emotions that are stuck on stuff. I have no other words. I know you know what I mean. So, beloveds, humour me in the next few months. mittonmusings.com may morph into my personal journal of sorts as we make these transitions to “country life”. Will you stick with me? Will you share a post or two? Besides, who’s gonna listen to me talk about my new chickens? I’ll keep you updated about the goat.