I don't like this.

This transition has been painful.  My body hurts, my head hurts, my heart hurts, and I keep forgetting to breathe.

Shortly after we arrived the depression subtly wove itself around each overwhelming moment and fatiguing day.  At first I passed it off as grieving intermingled with interrupted sleep from the baby, but throw postpartum hormonal imbalance into the equation and I wanted to be done.

I get it why David's psalms have so much self-talk in them - the knowing part of oneself speaking truth to the wounded heart and the discouraged and fearful soul.  I ask myself and shout at myself "why are you so downcast?' and I know the abundant gifts given to me in this day and abundant richness of God's forgiveness and salvation.  But my shouting sounds muted, as if my heart is plugging its ears, like a stubborn teenager refusing to listen.

There must be some hope left in me because I haven't completely given up yet.  Even though all I can feel is the pain of the now, I know, or at least I believe, that daily life will get better as we continue to settle.  I know I need to give myself time to grieve what I lost in the move and also to slowly re-establish regular living patterns.  My responsibilities with the girls have kept me functioning to take care of the basics of living, and I have been trying to be intentional about taking time to get away for an hour or so every week, as well as puttering around my little garden.

We had a craft day with another family this week (also new to town, he's a first year Beeson student as well, they have three children similar in age to ours, and she and I have become fast and much needed friends for each other her - So thankful for her!).  We put together "Thankful Trees." The kids cut out leaves that we'll write our thanksgivings on and then hang up on the collection of branches that form the "tree" in the canning jar.  The kids lost interest in cutting out leaves sooner than we anticipated, which reminded us both that we were doing all this, the visit, the playdate, the Thankful Trees, just as much for ourselves as for the kids.  

And there is so much to give thanks for:  Birmingham is a great city.  Our apartment is about as perfect as we could have hoped for - a good size, safe neighborhood, beautiful complex, easy location, right price, and with a backyard of our own!  Joel loves his school and is doing well in his classes. The girls are doing very well and are loving our church, homeschool group, and the neighbor kids.  The cats have settled easily after their cross country adventure.   Already the Beeson Divinity school, Christ the King Anglican Church, our Classical Conversation homeschool group, and our neighbors are developing into a wonderful community for us.  

I know all this but it still hurts, so I will start again to physically count and write out the thanksgivings to help correct the spiritual amnesia I experience so often.