Moving Out, Part I

The last leg of the moving-out process is halfway done. I have spent the morning throwing out lots of trash and boxing up stuff and moving furniture. Soon we'll have the U-Haul, and we're taking everything to Amanda and Sarah's new apartment. It will be nice to have The Lehman House and all its toxic memories behind me. I'm living in Centerville now, that's where my life is for the moment. I'm refocusing my energies on whats important and trying to discover what it means to live wisely. I'm abandoning some of the foolish pursuits of my past in lieu of becoming a better person, the person I want to be, the person God wants me to be. The Lehman House was good, and throughout my time there I really looked inwards at myself, and I discovered that there are many demons within my heart, wretchedness that must be expelled, sin that must be killed. We all have the most optimistic view of ourselves for the most part, with a few humbling anecdotes of negativity; but overall, we must face ourselves for the wholistically negative creatures we are. So in that sense, my time at The Lehman House was good. Lots of introspection and discovery aided by the Spirit of God. I went through countless disappointments and spilt many tears (and even much blood), but it has brought me to the point where I know I must continue to develop and grow not only as a Christian (what I like to abbreviate as Xian) but as a human as well.

Anyways, that's me rambling.

Moving Out is kind of sad, too. When we first moved into the house, I had lots of hopes that turned into disappointments. Throughout the last nine months, I foolishly threw myself into a hope that I knew was foolish. Foolish hopes always end in disappointment, and this one did as well. As we move the furniture out, another chapter in my life closes, and I can't help but feel saddened. How many more disappointments must I experience? Why must every new chapter of my life be borne out of disappointments? Why must my life be a drama--even a tragedy of sorts--and not have even glimpses of happiness? Perhaps it is because life, in general, does not have happy endings; and dramas and tragedies are most similar to the condition of human life in this fucked-up world. All I know is that as the last piece of furniture is moved out, another chapter riddled with disappointment after disappointment ends, and it is my hope (perhaps just as foolish as all the others) that this next chapter will not end with another disappointment but with the fruition of some hope, however foolish.