Transition Times. Oh Dear.

Transition--a movement, development, or evolution from one form, stage, or style to another: change.

******

So in the last scene of a House Hunter's episode, the new Palm Springs homeowners sat beside a gorgeous condo pool which gleamed with sunshine, clinking their drinks together and laughing.

I looked over at Tom and said, "Now that's the life for me! Let's move to Palm Springs, ok? It seems so retro, too, and oh my goodness, I'm so tired of these Winters."

Tom said, "Sure! Let's start packing."

Every single March I dream about moving to warm places where Winter is only a quick, mild inconvenience. 

This Palm Springs dream, though, was flawed since it's in California (no offense to my dear readers who live there). But been there, done that. So I Googled, "places similar to Palm Springs" and yes! Scottsdale, AZ popped up. I saw awesome photos (oh, those palm trees and vintage main street) and checked out their reasonable condo prices. 

Sign. Me. Up.

Especially when, later, I stepped outside to another 50 (or so) twigs downed from our last snow-like-wet-concrete storm--

 Our April Friday.

*&^%$#@ twigs. This year I've picked up hundreds and ugh, my poor ol' back.

Oh, these last few transition weeks of Winter to Spring! If I'd have obeyed my end-of-Winter feelings years ago, we'd certainly not be still living here. Uh, no.

But God knows my heart wants to obey Him rather than my feelings. So here I still am, 24 years later, in Buffalo, choosing contentment and having a marvelous, peaceful time in all but March and ok, usually February, also.

Like yesterday. I got reacquainted with sitting on the front porch and reading in the morning sun. "So this is what it feels like to sit outside!" I told myself, snuggling down further in our wicker chair. And smiling like a Cheshire cat.

Oh, the luxury of a simple warm, sunny day.

The waiting, the transition times are seldom comfortable, right? And actually, since last month I've been dealing with a different transition, one of those mysterious kinds where you know God wants something different for you, but you've not a clue as to what.

So as with my warmer place dreams, I've been slowing down, trying to listen to God rather than my feelings, even though, Honey, my feelings speak much louder. And I've been reminding myself not to run, but to stand.

This is where ones self-discipline and listening must remain stronger than her feelings to throw up her hands and just start grabbing at any ol' opportunity so to ease the discomfort of waiting. 

I'd hate to take a wrong turn. You know, end up where God didn't want me, even if it did appear to be heavenly and warm. No place, no opportunity is right if it wasn't first birthed from God's own heart.

Not even Arizona.  😏

“Change is difficult, but it can be managed when you stay aware of the power of your choices, even if it’s simply your attitude.” 
― Michael Thomas Sunnarborg

“Transition isn't pretty, but stagnation is hideous.” 
― Nikki Rowe

"Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content."   ... Philippians 4:11

********