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Chasing Freedom

Welcome Change

By March 20, 2014 No Comments

irises-2-1373030-mI wanted to write about something different—anything different. But the same hurdles, daily grind and daily graces of yesterday are still facing me today. And it’s from that place of broken melodies, tear-spattered journals and explosive worship-dancing in the kitchen, that all my articles come from.

Most of my blog posts and articles for the past eight years tell some portion of my recovery from anorexia, or the lingering pain of a lonely marriage or the sad goodbyes of frequent moves mixed with the blessed, spontaneous insert of private psalms and joyous thanks. Right now, the loudest thought is trepidation about another move.

It’s no surprise that change is often a trigger for eating disorders. Those of us who crave control rarely welcome change. In fact, past moves have been the catalyst for relapses in my recovery. However, this last relocation was different, and I am confident in Christ that the coming move will also be a chance to deepen my faith and strengthen recovery.

I’m sitting on the back porch of a house belonging to someone I’ve never met. I never will meet her. I’ll sit here, nearly every morning for three more months, until the Army tells us our time in Georgia is over. Then, my husband and I will supervise the packing of our precious little furniture and migrate to Tennessee.

I didn’t want to move here. House hunting, packing and unpacking for a stay of less than a year was unappealing. The house we rented is okay but old, and the backyard is full of the most violent kind of thorny stickers.

The night we arrived, I let the dog out to explore his new habitat. As I turned to head back inside, a purple spot caught my eye. Tucked tightly in a corner between the screened porch and the siding was a single iris—I bent to inhale its life-fresh offering.

I’ve always loved iris, since I was six-years-old and the stubborn plants monopolized my mother’s flowerbed on the side of the house. She tried to remove them a couple times, and the dogs made short work of turning up the hardy bulbs several times a year in an effort to aerate the soil. But the iris always, always came back.

I squatted there on the side of our temporary home. Swells of longing for the best friend I just hugged goodbye the day before lingered. But they were tempered by a rising tide of hope and determination, too.

Only God knew the giant, bearded iris is my favorite bloom. He tacked it to the barren soil of my new backyard like a welcome note. Most certainly, only God could have coaxed that same plant to bloom repeatedly all last year, way past season—all the way through November.

I considered asking the homeowner if could dig up this solitary plant and take it with me to our new house. But, I think I’ll leave it to welcome the next tenants.

I am confident that God has posted a note of welcome and hope at the new house, too.

RELATED:

Changing Seasons in My Recovery, by Krissy Close

Mindset Needed for Recovery from ED, video resource

Eating Disorder Risks, by Constance Rhodes

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