You heard me. We're moving out of this house in 8 weeks and we don't yet know where to. It could be any where in Australia. Or New Zealand for that matter. Wherever the presidents of the Lutheran Church of Australia decide is best for Joel to be the pastor - that's where our house is. I'm imagining it will have a bathroom, a kitchen, a bedroom or two, some lounge room space, maybe bit of a garden and a laundry. But I don't know and the not knowing is so many words: frustrating, stressful, crazy, draining and just plain hard.
Comments like - 'you'll know soon enough' and 'a few weeks isn't that long in the scheme of things' are well intentioned and received with some gratitude but I really prefer to hear 'wow, that must suck!' Because it really does. On one hand.
On the other hand - not knowing is, not quite fantastic, but ok. I don't want to leave Adelaide. I love it here. This is my home. My friends are here. I know people who work in shops, who catch my buses, who live near by. This is my patch of the world. The place I met and married my husband. The place I finally finished a degree. The place I established relationships. Where I learnt to drive, finally. Where I learnt to love Mocha's and Thai and Indian and wine and wineries and wine tours and cheese that smells funny but tastes ok. It's taken me 5 years to establish that. Now we have to go.
So not knowing where we have to go makes staying and enjoying my last 2 months that much easier, that much more relaxed because if I don't know where I'm going how can I possibly stop being here? For a while longer I don't have a new home so this can't be my old home. For a while longer I don't have to worry about where it is I'll have to make new friends so I don't have to think about saying goodbye to my precious tribe here.
For a little while longer - until we know where will live next year - I can be here wholly, in joy, in peace and just a little insane with wondering.
And so continues waiting....