I really don't want

to move.

I'm not excited about it at all. I can buy all the cute furniture. I can get all sorts of decorating ideas. I can think about all the new types of freedom I'll acquire. Being able to go to any church I want. Staying out without having to call. Washing dishes on my own time schedule.

But it doesn't mask the fact that I'm so acutely sad to leave my mother. I can't imagine not seeing her face every day. I can't imagine not being there for her when things are difficult or when she wants to share a funny story.

Yes, I'm not moving to Uzbekistan and yet I feel an ocean between her and I. I see it in her eyes each time she sits next to me now and says, "You'll still come visit right?" It was always me and her. Since I was born. We were a team, struggling, surviving, learning from one another. She was my angel. The one good thing about me I used to say.

And then I fell in love with Someone else. And He said, I love you but I don't need you. I desperately want you without condition. And I got confused. My mother's love is all I've known. But now He is asking me to give her up. Asking me to trust in His love alone.

God has to come in between each relationship.

And this should be easy. But it's really not. There is a space in my soul that only my mother occupies. But when you say, "I want to be all of Yours," something snaps. Floodgates open up washing away the pattern of things.

God says I want to enter that space, increase it and occupy it. For your sake, for her sake and for your father's sake. All for my glory. So that your joy may be made complete.

I watch him wash the dishes, something he never did before. He buys me prunes, says it's in the bottom shelf of the fridge. Trying so hard to be the provider. But even in the midst of these small but important treasures, God is calling me out. Separating me out.

It's a pain unlike I've ever experienced. It's emptying, lonely, terrifying. I dread that apartment. I dread what it represents. And yet all God says is, Come home to me. Let me serve you. Let me fill you. Let me be your mother, your father, your all.

So I will go. I will pack up my things and journey into that unknown place. I will brave the inevitable loneliness, the doubt, the fear of what will occur at 2832 while I reside at 3333. I will brave the accusations, the pleas, the begging, the misunderstanding. I will endure it all for You. For the ultimate fulfillment of your promises to me, to them, for us, for the world.

I am walking on water and each day I almost drown. And each day you remind me when I ask Who I am?

You say, "I am with you."

So here we go. I've given up my dreams, my love life, my friendships and now finally the most important people in my life. You have it all. There is no turning back now.