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.
:0)
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