when God grabbed and held me.
God's my strength, he's also my song,
and now he's my salvation...
I didn't die. I lived!
And now I'm telling the world what God did. (Psalm 118)
It was easy to ignore while Hunky was away, while I floated in the lake, and flipped pancakes for the pre-teen geek squad, while storms rolled in and the magic deck was filled with reminiscing and theology and hilarity. It was easy to pretend that the days weren't ticking away as quickly as they are. But today reality set in again, the Hunky went to work, and we got educated. We also bought bubble wrap, and started inventorying and emptying the too-high cabinets where nothing important is ever stored. I walked around making lists and assessing cleaning supplies.
We are moving, and I, the lover of new things, the lover of new spaces and new organization, the lover of purging and clean slates, am quite sad to see the time clearly now that I always knew would come. I have told the story of the circumstances that got us here but I don't know that I have expounded much about the actual place we have resided the last two years.
When we left Florida, we left a house we knew would likely never sell, and we knew it would financially devastate us no matter how it fell out (and it did, we declared bankruptcy a year ago this week). We knew coming up here that we wouldn't be buying a house, and since then have been quite firmly convicted that for our family, owning a home is an anchor that we are not to allow to weigh us down. This style of life has required of me a new level of faith and trust which still requires that I take deep, quieting breaths from time to time.
God, who never stops showing off for me, brought us to the most amazing home ever to regroup. He brought us to a house that would be able to sleep the literal dozens of people who would come to visit us (often all at once) in the year following our exodus, people who needed to see that we were, indeed, going to thrive in our new life. He brought us to a place that's very largeness provided the space to occupy me in the months it would take me to become accustomed to a new town, to make friends, to find my community. I was never bored or without something to occupy me. He brought us to a place that was reminiscent of many of the happiest memories of my life. He knew that in lake time moments would expand to crystalline perfection allowing deep introspection and soothing relaxation. He brought us to a place far enough out of town that we would have to rely on Him and each other rather than a million social distractions, so the fractures we experienced internally weren't allowed to spread and affect our relationships with each other. He brought us to a place with the softest springiest carpets I have ever walked on, because even the tiniest detail isn't outside His control.
But as wonderful as this place has been to us, it's time to move in closer: closer to town, closer to each other in a house with less square feet, closer in our budget in ways we can't be here. The parade of guests has slowed to an intermittent trickle. Our focus is far more forward than back. Our hearts are as whole as they are ever going to be again. The time is ripe to move us on to other purposes. I realize that once I know where we are going, the excitement of getting there will far overshadow the sorrow of leaving something I knew wasn't permanent.
However, for a few moments tonight, I will indulge in a small bit of wistful melancholy. This place, this world is not my home, but oh my, there are some lovely resting places in it aren't there? How blessed am I to have spent this much time in one?
I'm telling the world what God has done: when we needed it most, He gave us a soft place to land. Here is the place I rediscovered my heart. A good home it's been. I am grateful.