It seems that people move quite often, a fact that I'm finding out ever since living in an apartment. It's only been 4 1/2 years and already we've had multiple neighbors move through the revolving doors.
I've been pretty lucky, I guess. My parents had their home for twenty-five years before selling it. From there we went to a two-flat that we lived in for thirteen more years. We've been here on the avenue apartment for almost 4 1/2 yrs. Moving isn't something that we do on impulse or often.
We are burrowing people. We like to settle in for a good while, always looking for a home that we can live in until old age. Moving is just too much work. We don't mind the packing for it's a great way to clean out unwanted or not needed items. We also don't mind unpacking, because it's a new place and we can decorate as we like. The one thing we definitely don't like is the heavy lifting. Up and down the stairs, box after box. Drive to the new place and again up and down the stairs, box after box.
Even now as we look around our little apartment, carpets are worn out and a new coat of paint is needed, we feel it is time to go. Yet, we hesitate. Why? I'm not sure how to explain. There is something that is holding me back. It keeps whispering in my ear wait. So I wait.
I do know that wherever we go next will be definitely my last. Maybe, that's why I'm waiting? I want it to be perfect, my special little haven. In my mind, I know exactly what I want and where I want to be, but who knows what is in store for us. God has His own plan, I just hope it's the same as mine. :)
Have a Blessed day everyone.
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