Packing is exhausting. It just is. I pack up my life several times a year to travel to new places. New contracts. New characters. Theatres. Possibilities. And as exhausting as that packing may be, it’s the exciting kind of packing. The “adventure awaits” kind of packing. My boyfriend will tell you that I am an over packer. This trait of mine affects him because he often finds himself carrying the heaviest of suitcases that I have over packed. I like to be prepared for any occasion. I like options. I like shoes.

I wonder how many times I’ve had to pack for an extended time awa? How many times have I packed to move to a new location? College. New York Apartment #1. New York Apartment #2. New York Apartment #3. Etc. All of those times bringing the exhilaration of the mystery of the future. A slight “high” of elation. Packing to leave your husband does NOT bring that feeling. 

It’s funny, because looking back…4 years ago, I was worried about all the wrong things. I didn’t want to be tacky. TACKY! I didn’t want to take a DVD that might have meant something to him. I stressed over whether or not it was appropriate to take the kitchen table. Which wedding gifts were mine and which where his? *Spoiler alert: I finally grew some balls and took all the wedding gifts. I spent an agonizing amount of time deciding what to take and what to leave. Even though in my heart I believed we could still find our way back to each other, in my head I knew I had to be practical. How could I ever restart my life without him? I had to arm myself with blenders and toasters and crock pots in case I was alone forever (Also, I do not cook. Why I was concerned about a crock pot is beyond me). In my head, I had to be the perfect packer because this would directly affect how the rest of my life would pan out. 

My sweet boss helped me save boxes from the restaurant I worked for and even took the company van and drove the boxes to my apartment to help me out. Isn’t that the nicest thing? He hand delivered dozens of boxes to my home. It may not seem like a big deal, but if you live in New York City, you can imagine how helpful this selfless act of kindness was to me. Every day I would slowly pack up pieces of my life. I had a system. I worked my way around our tiny Upper West Side apartment. I went through drawers and cabinets and memories and years of our relationship. I boxed it all away. I overpacked.  

Mostly, during these times I remember the aloneness. No one can really help you pack. You have to do it yourself. You make the choices about what stays and what goes. What’s important. What is valuable. What you can and can’t live without. What is necessary. You hope you haven’t forgotten anything essential. You focus on the significance of things because you can’t bear to fully acknowledge what you can’t take with you. What you must leave behind. A person. A marriage. A relationship. Pieces of your soul. The person you used to be.  

People leave people every day. I wonder how difficult it is for them. In my business the only true constant is the constant coming and going. The packing. The unpacking. The hellos and goodbyes. What is worth packing. Who is worth traveling with. The big question is always, “When will you unpack for good?”And my response is still the same one I had four years ago. God has a plan. The one who has never forsaken me, the one who leads me, the one who traveled with me then and travels with me now..he has a plan. He knows the desires of my heart and I will always try my hardest to answer his call, pack up, and follow. 

Hebrews 10:36 “You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.”