Am I living in Exodus?

Lately I've been feeling a lot like a Hebrew after the exodus from Egypt.

When we were called to move to North Dakota (and believe me it was a calling from God. Why else would we choose 40 below over white sand and coffee plantations?) I thought and planned for a new life that looked much different from what it has become. Surely the Hebrews would identify with me.

I envisioned a provincial existence. I would write for hours while I waited for the homemade bread to bake or the jars of canned goods, fresh from my own garden of course, to process on the stove. My house would remain spotless with little effort from me. Scott would have a fabulous career with lots of perks. Adam would walk or ride his bike to school. In my abundance of free time, I would craft, sew, scrapbook, read and play with Gracey and write some more. I'd be part of a writer's group and Scott would join a band. We would have lots of social and relaxation time with school and church friends. Our neighbors would gather regularly for barbecues.  On the week-ends, we'd take our ATVs on trail rides, or skip wakes on our jet skis, or speed along snowy fields on our snowmobiles. Then we'd roast marshmallows over the fire with friends and neighbors. There would be rugged adventures and homey holidays.

Church would be perfect. Home would be perfect. School would be perfect.

In short, life would be perfect and we'd be sit-com happy. Courier and Ives would have nothing on us. Neither would Disney.

Don't you think the Hebrews thought something along those lines when God told them of the Promised Land?

Yes, North Dakota was the Promised Land for me. And, by and large it has been the best decision we've ever made and we have found contentment, pleasure and happiness here. Many, many of our dreams have come true even though my house is not effortlessly clean and our lives are far from perfect.

I'm not complaining, mind you, because I love life here and truth be told I'm glad we followed God's call to North Dakota and didn't wind up in Hawai'i. But, honestly I didn't think it would be this much work.

Don't you think that when the Hebrews discovered they had to defeat the giants living in and around the Promised Land they were a little surprised, overwhelmed and maybe even perturbed?

As I look back over the last five-and-a-half years since we moved here, I sigh and say, "we've worked so hard." I never, ever fell into bed exhausted in our former California life the way I do here. And trust me, it wasn't because we didn't work hard. We had our own business, we had a house and yard to care for, we had Adam, we had more family to contend with, we had hobbies and so on and so forth. But setting up our new life in the Promised Land has proven to be exhausting.

There have been surmountable transitions, devastating changes, exuberant joy, unquestionable successes and they all add up to work. Lots of work. Work that I didn't think I'd have to do.

I just thought the hard work was the moving, the actual physical leaving of California. I didn't realize that was the easy part. And I bet as the Hebrews watched the Egyptians get washed away in the Red Sea, they thought the same thing.

I realize the fault is mine. I managed to make our "new life" into some sort of fairy tale existence that vaulted my expectations into the stratosphere. And that's okay because if I'm completely honest, I like this life better than the one I'd imagined in my delusions. I like that every minute of every day is filled with something. I like that I feel like I'm making a difference in my life and those of my family and others. I like that I'm never bored. 

But it makes me wonder if the Hebrews felt the same way. I wonder if they sat down at the end of a particularly long day and say, "Whew, this Promised Land thing sure has turned out to be more than I bargained for." Maybe not in so many words, but probably.

And here's my realization: when God transplants you, He has a reason for doing it. It's not like He's playing some eternal game of chess and we are his pawns. It's not all fun and games to Him. So why do we think it will be all fun and games to us?

Aren't we transplanted for His good and ultimately, though not exactly how we imagined, for our own? So we can grow and bloom? So His blessed purpose can be fulfilled in us and through us?

Well no wonder I'm so tired!