Moving Fun

Well, that's a big fat lie. There's nothing fun about moving, nothing at all.

You might be excited about your new home or your new job. Getting to a new school or to a place you've always wanted to live. But the move itself is one big headache after another.

Sorting through everything you've collected during your stay in your home is daunting, even if you don't tend to be a saver. A lot depends on how much storage space you have. If there's a place for it, you don't think of it as clutter.

Packing the boxes is exhausting and endless. Like the scarves pulled out of a magician's hat, no matter how many drawers and shelves you empty there always seems to be more.

And if you think it would be wonderful to have the movers pack, think again. While we were in the Army, the movers did the packing for us. It's a bit overwhelming having four or five people swarm through your house, tossing stuff in boxes with abandon. And their labeling of the boxes leaves much to be desired. "Kitchen" is okay. But "Bedroom" is only partially helpful if you have more than one. The worst thing they do is to take a half-filled box from one room to another, then label it as the second room. It can take months to find anything.

In your new home, with the first flush of enthusiasm, or the first flush of necessity, you locate sheets and towels, dishes and cookware, and begin to live a camping sort of existence. Then, for many of us, we slow down. We're worn out and rightly so. You open one box at a time, rarely finding what you were hoping for. In fact, you're  reaction all too often is, "Why did I keep that?"

Eventually you find that the small tools you have for small fixes are in with the tablecloths you rarely use, and your favorite afghan is tucked in with some of the Christmas decorations.

After that, you relegate the rest of the boxes to the basement or garage to go through later. Sometimes later never comes. I'm pretty sure there are a couple of boxes left from when we moved 26 years ago. If I ever come across them, I'm pretty sure I'll find that at some point I bought replacements.

One of my favorite moving stories came from the new Associate Pastor at my church years ago. At his welcoming coffee hour he was asked how the move had gone. He said, "It wasn't any problem at all. But I have made a decision. I'm never moving again. When the Senior Pastor retires, I will become the Senior Pastor and the Associate Pastor's parsonage will become the Senior Pastor's parsonage. When I retire, you will sell me the Senior Pastor's parsonage."

Everyone laughed, but I was pretty sure he meant it