Do you ever question yourself? I do. Often. I've posted here before, often, about my questions, my struggles, my demons.

We're approaching two years since we moved to Georgia, and sometime this week will mark more times than I have posted in either of the last two years. We are moving again...soon soon. I find that the prospect of moving opens new doors of things to be examined. I've swallowed a lot of words in the past few years, and let go some that should have been left unspoken.  I've done a great many things wrong.

I question if now is the time to speak of these things or just let it all go like flotsam that drifts away and disappears somewhere far down stream.

I ask God for reasons and sometimes He answers but more often He just tells me to trust.

I question if it's normal to always turn things over and look underneath and search the hidden corners, or am I spending too much time dwelling on the things that matter little instead of on the things that last Eternal.

I "see" people from that life and I wonder "Do I say, 'Hi. I really miss the way we used to be. That was important to me. I hate that it changed so much.'" ? Or do I just keep walking on because you can't make a butterfly back into a caterpillar. Some changes, they just don't go back to what they were. And some pieces don't fit back together once they've changed.

I question my heart and my motives and my faith and my reasons. I'm afraid to say "search me, Abba, and find my hidden sins" because I am afraid of what Truth might reveal.

I read back over this and I question: Is it true? Is it real? Because I am not angst driven, but some times I, who love silence, would rather have white noise in my brain when the children are sleeping than these tripping foxes disguised as thoughts that nip and my cortex and yip-yip-yip between my ears.

It's a time to find the things hidden in the backs of drawers and the dusty far corners of closets, both in the house and in the mind.

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