3 weeks from tomorrow and we will be leaving Wyoming...it seems surreal. It's a bittersweet beginning. I am leaving friends that I love dearly. Leaving the mountains. Leaving this wide-open land. But, I am gaining new life. New birth. New growth. New everything.
Here it is 3 weeks before the move (which was a surprise to us...we thought we had 2 months as of three days ago) and the house is filled with stuff. I took the big curbside garbage container into the laundry room/pantry and nearly filled it with junk tonight. Containers...why in the world do I always think I need so many containers? What am I planning on containing?
I emptied my sewing desk and boxed up more books. Yesterday I cleaned out my bedroom closet and boxed up more books, papers, clothing, and miscellaneous stuff. Sometimes I wish I could get rid of some of this stuff, but what would I do with out my folding cat-eye magnifying glasses on a necklace? Probably the same thing I do everyday that they sit in a drawer in my bedroom waiting for my eyes to go bad...move on with my life without them. Somehow they are necessary and it is proven by the fact that they have been with me since I was about 19.
The children are slowly emptying their rooms into boxes...sorting, sifting, weighing the worth of their stuff...Sorting and weighing the stuff of our lives and realizing that this stuff is nothing, but yet it feels like something. I keep having to remind myself that we are moving into a 980 square foot house...we will need all the space we can get. I need to stop thinking of this stuff as important. I need to see it for what it is...stuff.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Seeds of Hope
Sitting here tonight I am trying to soak it all in. This past week has been a whirlwind of change and of promise and of hope. My eyes are tired and I am ready for a sabbath rest. One more day...one more day.
My thoughts drift towards home and saunter into our storage space 1400 miles away. I remember my books...cordwood masonry...sitting in a box...waiting for that perfect time to be utilized, and I sink into deep satisfaction that this is that time. My eyes drift over boxes stacked high, over to my old antique wash station that was a gift for my 16th birthday from my grandfather. Did Father know then what I am now realizing? That my life would turn into this quest for "old"? Of course he did. He planned that gift. He planted that seed. He planted it deep into my soul and surrounded me with "old" my entire life. Tractors, blacksmithing, hunting out the perfect spot for a well with great aunts and uncles, watching those chickens run headless while grandpa honed is knife...and that antique wash station.
Next to that wash station is that old mirror with silver backing. It's heavy. It's old. My reflection in it is dim and faded. My wrinkles don't appear and my grey hairs fade away. This mirror. It's sitting there reflecting our life left behind. Motionless.
Here we are in full throttle motion. Hustle. Bustle. Move. Mend. We are here in this place...this tundra. Ice cold nights followed by warm windy days. Strange land. The king works hard for us. He works for someone else. He works. He compromises. He struggles with sabbath keeping. He struggles with time.
The children run about finding things to fill the space of time. Chess club, YMCA, library, stores, shopping, walking, endless pursuits all filling the space of time.
And me...mom...filling space...always filling space. Bread. Cookies. Crochet. Books. School. Internet. Driving. Shopping. Cleaning. All of it just to pass time. Passing the time until I arrive at the place where I have been headed my whole life.
It's not a pretty picture, this waiting for something I have always needed...always wanted. It's like walking a tightrope between present and future. Present is so sweet and so precious and I don't want to miss a thing. But, future is there...I see it, I feel it. It is in the present where I have placed my hopes and my dreams. The seeds of this present are blossoming and growing roots and where will they grow if there is no soil? No land. No place to call home.
Home is calling me back. Those silent boxes that sit as the only reflection that old mirror has. Sitting full with memories and hope and future promises. Grandma's picture. Always smiling. Always praying. Heirlooms too precious for words. It's all there. And I am here...waiting.
The reunion will be sweet. The gathering. The unloading. The placing. The planting. The watering. Roots will grow and harvest will come. Future is here and I have perfect peace. Perfect perfect peace.
The king is smiling again. He is laughing. His prayers are being answered right in front of him. His own business. His own land. His own future held together by Providence and not other men. He knows his woman will be covered in dirt and sweat, hair disheveled, sun kissed cheeks and smiling face...that makes him smile even bigger. He knows his children will be working beside him, digging the dirt, chopping the trees, building life.
Watching this seed blossom into life is humbling and breathtaking.
This adventure...this grand adventure. And it's only just begun.
My thoughts drift towards home and saunter into our storage space 1400 miles away. I remember my books...cordwood masonry...sitting in a box...waiting for that perfect time to be utilized, and I sink into deep satisfaction that this is that time. My eyes drift over boxes stacked high, over to my old antique wash station that was a gift for my 16th birthday from my grandfather. Did Father know then what I am now realizing? That my life would turn into this quest for "old"? Of course he did. He planned that gift. He planted that seed. He planted it deep into my soul and surrounded me with "old" my entire life. Tractors, blacksmithing, hunting out the perfect spot for a well with great aunts and uncles, watching those chickens run headless while grandpa honed is knife...and that antique wash station.
Next to that wash station is that old mirror with silver backing. It's heavy. It's old. My reflection in it is dim and faded. My wrinkles don't appear and my grey hairs fade away. This mirror. It's sitting there reflecting our life left behind. Motionless.
Here we are in full throttle motion. Hustle. Bustle. Move. Mend. We are here in this place...this tundra. Ice cold nights followed by warm windy days. Strange land. The king works hard for us. He works for someone else. He works. He compromises. He struggles with sabbath keeping. He struggles with time.
The children run about finding things to fill the space of time. Chess club, YMCA, library, stores, shopping, walking, endless pursuits all filling the space of time.
And me...mom...filling space...always filling space. Bread. Cookies. Crochet. Books. School. Internet. Driving. Shopping. Cleaning. All of it just to pass time. Passing the time until I arrive at the place where I have been headed my whole life.
It's not a pretty picture, this waiting for something I have always needed...always wanted. It's like walking a tightrope between present and future. Present is so sweet and so precious and I don't want to miss a thing. But, future is there...I see it, I feel it. It is in the present where I have placed my hopes and my dreams. The seeds of this present are blossoming and growing roots and where will they grow if there is no soil? No land. No place to call home.
Home is calling me back. Those silent boxes that sit as the only reflection that old mirror has. Sitting full with memories and hope and future promises. Grandma's picture. Always smiling. Always praying. Heirlooms too precious for words. It's all there. And I am here...waiting.
The reunion will be sweet. The gathering. The unloading. The placing. The planting. The watering. Roots will grow and harvest will come. Future is here and I have perfect peace. Perfect perfect peace.
The king is smiling again. He is laughing. His prayers are being answered right in front of him. His own business. His own land. His own future held together by Providence and not other men. He knows his woman will be covered in dirt and sweat, hair disheveled, sun kissed cheeks and smiling face...that makes him smile even bigger. He knows his children will be working beside him, digging the dirt, chopping the trees, building life.
Watching this seed blossom into life is humbling and breathtaking.
This adventure...this grand adventure. And it's only just begun.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
The Dream Realized
A dream that waits in the distance waiting to be realized in the future. Today is the future. The realization of our hopes, dreams, and prayers, prayers, prayers. This dream come true isn't an exact picture of what we had in our minds, but when we step back and look, it is more than we could have ever hoped for, ever imagined, or ever planned ourselves. We are humbled and in awe...why? Because this is Father's Providence...
The Surprise Blessings~
Two and a half acres
A newer model manufactured home
An hour to an hour and a half away from family
All these things are not what we had planned, but probably exactly what we need.
The Needed Blessings~
Over an acre of pine...perfect for our plans to build a cordwood home some day.
Zoned agricultural residential...this means as many animals as we want and the ability to have a farm stand on our property.
An out building suitable for storage and small woodworking projects.
Open areas for gardens.
A pen, already up, suitable for goats.
The Over and Above Blessings~
Felled seasoned pine, ready for our cordwood chicken coop.
A pile, a HUGE pile, of left behind brick...for some other building (or garden) venture.
5 minutes from town, but in the middle of nowhere...
State Forest a mile away.
And I am sure there is more that we haven't even seen yet.
Providence...it's always His timing and in His ways that things work out and it is always over and above anything that I could ever imagine. It is always abundance. It is always blessing. It is always faith and always substance.
This is Providence Homestead.
The Surprise Blessings~
Two and a half acres
A newer model manufactured home
An hour to an hour and a half away from family
All these things are not what we had planned, but probably exactly what we need.
The Needed Blessings~
Over an acre of pine...perfect for our plans to build a cordwood home some day.
Zoned agricultural residential...this means as many animals as we want and the ability to have a farm stand on our property.
An out building suitable for storage and small woodworking projects.
Open areas for gardens.
A pen, already up, suitable for goats.
The Over and Above Blessings~
Felled seasoned pine, ready for our cordwood chicken coop.
A pile, a HUGE pile, of left behind brick...for some other building (or garden) venture.
5 minutes from town, but in the middle of nowhere...
State Forest a mile away.
And I am sure there is more that we haven't even seen yet.
Providence...it's always His timing and in His ways that things work out and it is always over and above anything that I could ever imagine. It is always abundance. It is always blessing. It is always faith and always substance.
This is Providence Homestead.
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