Losing Perspective


The door flies open…


“I think the dolly flew off the truck!”


“WHAT? What did you do?”


“I unloaded the truck. I put the dolly back on, and I thought I closed the tail gate. But, when I got here the gate was up, the dolly gone.”


“What? Oh my goodness. I hope it did not hit someone’s car as you were driving.” I am not panicking as I just saw dollar signs. I am thinking, Man honey, how could you? But instead, “Well I hope it just fell off and did not hit anyone.”


“I will drive back to school and look for it before I return the truck.”


“OK.” Sigh…


I hate moving!!! I HATE moving!!! I despise the process:

  • packing up
  • cleaning up and cleaning out
  • multiple trips to Goodwill to give away all the junk we really didn’t need
  • millions of boxes all over our small apartment
  • uprooting
  • trying to make everything fit neatly into a box so the glassware does not break
  • hold time on the phone with the cable company to disconnect services
  • hold time on the phone with the power company to disconnect services.
  • loading the truck in 90 degree heat and sweating buckets while playing Tetris, with boxes, hoping everything we own will fit in the 20ft moving truck and it won’t be broken by the time we arrive at the destination—8.5 hours away

old apt boxesKaren loading

packing the truckpacking the truck 3

Then, we arrive at the destination; and its 10 degrees hotter than when we left 8.5 hours ago. After a long day of driving and then signing away our lives on multiple pages of a lease, it is time to go in reverse—unload and haul everything up the stairs.

Unloading in 99 degree weather is not fun, especially when you, the hubby, and the moving men are drenched in sweat and the funk begins to permeate the air. No fun!!!

We paid for two hours of help, so the unloading MUST go fast and smooth. We ignore the sweat pouring off the movers unto the furniture… and the accompanying smell of hard labor…Everything unloaded. Two hours. Done!!!

The apartment is a maze of boxes, and the unpacking and the arranging begins. But also, the connecting of services— waiting all day for the cable guy. The 8-10am installation window moves to 8-1pm with no notice. The process of transition is underway. I know…I know I sound like I am whining, but this was where I was just a week and half ago when we moved.

However, the Lord always has a way of giving me a needed dose of reality. It is good to remember the big picture and not be overwhelmed by what’s immediately in front of me.

In the middle of unpacking, Joey and I stopped to watch a documentary called The True Cost. It was about the fast fashion industry and the factory workers in third world countries who are paid little to nothing to make cheap clothing for fast fashion clothing companies in the US and around the world.

It was a glimpse into the world of the factory workers. They worked long hours in horrible conditions that made me cringe in anger, with pay that made me marvel at how they could truly provide for their families. One of the women interviewed shared that she had to send her little girl away to live with family because she could not afford to keep her —There was no babysitter or daycare she could afford—a reality I cannot imagine. The documentary also showed garment factory workers in one country on strike because they demanded better pay to afford a better life for their families. Their demonstration was met with police restraint and attack which left many wounded and some dead. These workers wanted the same thing my husband and I want, to provide for our families—food, clothing, shelter, education, savings, opportunity. A good opportunity for our family was one of the reasons we moved. Sometimes we have to do whatever it takes—even moving—if that will afford a better life for our families.

The documentary slapped me upside the head and gave me much needed perspective. Honestly, even though I dislike the inconvenience, the upheaval, and the transition of moving and resettling, I am not working in a sweat shop. My baby is not sleeping on a blanket pallet on the floor of a factory while I work to provide. I actually moved in an air conditioned van and slept in my own bed that night, so moving really is not the end of the world. I cannot lose sight of the bigger picture. My hubby landed a good job, and that is good for our family. So, I thank the Lord for the opportunity given to us. And I thank Him that He uses even a documentary to cause me to rethink my attitude.  In the grand scheme of things, I have to choose gratitude because life could always be worse.

So what about you?

Are you feeling over whelmed by your circumstances and have not stopped long enough to see that maybe it’s not as bad as you think?

Have you lost perspective? What is the Lord showing you?




Beginning again…



Blank writing pad and pen, sitting at the desk for hours wondering what to say? What to write? How will it sound? Hmmmm, what topic to pick? This is the hard part of writing. Many authors encourage new writers, saying, “Just start.” “Get something down, anything, even if it sounds dumb.” But, starting is daunting…the blank page staring at you. It is work. It is a craft that must be honed.

It is the difficulty of starting to write that constantly has me wondering–doing mental gymnastics really.  Am I supposed to try this again? Is this the path I am to take? My heart says, “Yes!” Go for it, jump in, and let your faith conquer your fear and the stifling paralysis of perfectionism. And WRITE!

These words wash over me and give me courage:

I will instruct you and teach you in the way which you should go;

I will counsel you with My eye upon you.

Do not be as the horse or as the mule which have no understanding.

So the journey begins again… To inspire. To encourage. To inform… To write.