Adapting

I’m Back! Well, Sort Of.

*waves from sunny Texas*

Yep, that’s right. We survived the packing/loading/driving/unloading/traveling portion of our move from Northern Utah to South Texas. I kind of feel like we’re still moving, and will continue to be moving for like, another year. Or maybe more. And I’m not 100% sure we’ll ever find some things we packed, because, well, they never seem to be in the boxes we thought they were in or whatever. But we are on the other side of our long, long (did I say LONG?) moving journey, and in the process of adapting to our new environment.

To give you a new idea of what this adaptation involves, we went from this:

And this:

To this:

And this:

But even more than environmental adaptations, we’re getting oriented with our new town and surrounding areas, learning about the culture, and trying to integrate ourselves into the community.

Yes, it’s a lot. My brain = way past capacity. (And I am SO glad I didn’t do NaNo this year.)

But things are starting to calm a bit, and I’m planning to dive back into writing here soon. In the meantime, I want to leave you with a thought that’s been swimming in my head this week.

I think it takes sacrifice and service to do great things, and in order for us to become great (as people) we have to experience a lot of both. Opportunity doesn’t always come knocking on your door. More often than not, we have to search very hard to find it, and then decide to do take it, even if it means making that big sacrifice, or a number of sacrifices, and doing things that are hard, hard, HARD.

Sometimes, that’s what it takes to make a difference.

Sometimes, that’s the only way to break a monotonous pattern.

Sometimes, that’s exactly the kind of growth our souls crave.

It’s a personal character arc!

So, um. Now that I bore my soul for the week, have any of you recently experienced a personal arc of that variety? Do share!  

The Difference Between Humans and Robots

By Nichole Giles

It has become apparent during various seasons throughout my life that when it rains, it floods. Trials don’t come to us as a single pebble placed inside the toe of our shoe, but more as a rockslide that buries you to the waist, shoulders, or neck.

Fortunately for my family, our current issues fall in the minor category, though nonetheless, they remain heavy and bothersome. I’ll take enormous medical bills, a broken washer and drier, the need for new tires, teenage braces, and a basement flood any day, as long as it means my family members aren’t dying or fighting off deadly diseases. I’ll even take them over sick children and IRS audits.

The things going wrong with us are fixable, broken things replaceable—and since they all pile on at once, I have faith that we’ll find a way to pay for it all. Somehow.

And extended family member of mine has been known to say, “I’d trade trials with just about anyone I know. My life is so much harder than theirs.”

What a sad attitude to take. If not for these experiences, how would we ever learn who we are or how we react under pressure? How else would we grow and become better people?

Without life experiences we are no different from robots.

If not for the hardships, loves, sadness and joy in life, I would have nothing to write about. Harvesting these stories isn’t easy, but when I do, I’m reminded of lessons, miracles, and emotions I might otherwise have forgotten.

I want to experience life—to feel things and know that even the little, bothersome things will someday matter in the grand scheme of my life. But no, I wouldn’t trade places with anyone. Not for a thing!