All that matters...

When I was a kid, our family moved.  A lot.  My dad worked for a road construction company, which meant relocating to new jobs almost yearly.  This became our modus operandi:  every summer, we'd pack up everything we owned and head off to a new town.   Sometimes we'd like our "new town"; sometimes, not so much.  I won't mention any names.  By the time I was in 10th grade, we had moved 17 times, which explains why I said I'd NEVER marry anyone who made me move around!  (Have you ever heard the saying: "never say never"?)  Through all the hopeful hellos and the sad goodbyes, we were together, and that was what mattered most.  The transient lifestyle created a wealth of family memories and more than a few inside jokes.  I still talk to my parents at least every week, and my brother and I call each other often.  (He especially likes to call ME when HE is at some beach basking in the sun without a care in the world.)  

Flash forward a few years, and you'll find not much has changed.  I married an Army officer, and you guessed it ... we're still on the move.  Only the acronyms have changed.  (Now we call it PCS-ing, although there is nothing permanent about it.)  As we look forward to our next PCS, I find myself getting excited about the possibility of going back to Northern Virginia.  We were assigned there previously, and we fell in love with the area, the people, the culture, and a church called Image.    As we continue praying that God will take us back there next summer, I sense Him reminding me of the early days of my life.  I sense Him calling me to focus on Him rather than my location - either present or future.   We are family, Jesus and I, and we are together.  That is all that matters.