rolling stones and gathering moss

I have commitment issues. I mean, I'm good at being committed to my marriage, to my kids, that kind of stuff. But I have this other commitment-phobia when it comes to some basic grownup stuff. Like buying this house. That seemed so risky to me, marrying ourselves to a mortgage. But I love my house, I'm glad we married it. There's this itch in me, though, to get on the road, to live somewhere else, to go do something exciting. And when I say exciting, I'm talking about prayer and stuff, not so much tattoos and Harleys, although I would like a tattoo. But not a Harley tattoo. Been there done that.

And we're at this crossroad, with the band, with ministry, and our day-to-day life could change drastically, and the thing that is totally freaking me out is the idea of staying here, living in this house, getting more involved in our church. It would be less frightening to buy an RV and take our children around the country, doing prophetic face-painting and planting a church in the Grand Canyon or something. Seriously. (disclaimer: we will never do any of those things, that is just a crazy example. sorry if you would have come to our Canyon Fellowship or had plans to get your face painted like Aslan.)

I don't get it, exactly. I mean, I lived in one town for most of my life, went to the same church from age 4 to age 30 or something... I have no problem with being on time or paying bills or taking care of my children. It seems like a settled mommy life would just make sense. But I can feel my soul totally bucking at the idea, and I don't think it's just because I'm supposed to be a radical world-changer. I am, but I think my soul might need some discipline. Roots, maybe even. I kinda hate the idea of roots. So permanent. How boring would it be to be a tree?

The MOG is the same way, but he gets his wiggles out by flying around, doing music, riding in the van and such. Then he comes home and mainlines Advil and talks about doing something different, something crazy like sitting still. 

I'm figuring it out, okay? It's just one of those month-long "moments" in life where you get a clear look at yourself in a mirror and you say, wait a minute... that's jacked up.

Dadgum mirrors.