moving

I’m your average planner. I’m not obsessed with the future. I just like to see things work out as I hope. Unfortunately…moving isn’t one of those things.

We listed our house and in due time, we had a ratified contract. Next step…find a place to live. In short order, I found the perfect house. In the country, considerably smaller than the present house. It’s a rental because things are a bit up in the air. Buy or build…or just go ahead and buy the retirement boat now and buy a condo.

So today was moving day. Imagine my disappointment when the forecasters begin talking about snow. 2-4 inches. How often do they get it right? I studied the charts and decided we were on the edge of the event and would likely be the 2 inch group. Wrong.

4:30 this morning I hear the snowplow in my culdesac. Ok…so…they really don’t plow for 2 inches. After tossing and turning for a bit, I got up and measured the snow on my deck…8 inches.

(Do you ever have those moments when you wish God would look out for you and cause the whole region to miss a snow or rain event just so YOU can do what YOU want? That was me).

I waited until an appropriate time to call the movers… ‘hey..uh..maybe we should postpone this thing until Friday?

No one in the office…I left the message and waited. Soon the phone range…the movers were on their way.

Action went into high gear…tear down the beds, and blow snow out of my driveway so the multiple trucks could get in.

THEN I had to go to the new house and blow snow out of the long driveway.

It was beautiful there as the snow continued to fall. I got the driveway open and tried to move the trailer around to store in the garage. Ooops…I drove off the driveway and got the truck and trailer stuck in the snow. It wasn’t budging.

And then the phone rang…turns out…it’s way to slick to load the trucks..so the move is put off til Friday. Yay!

Unhooking the trailer I kept working and finally got the truck unstuck. Welcome to country living.

Last Friday I worked the phone to get all the necessary services moved to the new house. What do I do now? I spend more time on the phone.

In all of this…I kept thinking of Proverb 19:21 “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails”.

The truth is…most of my life is pretty uneventful. And when I have to make a move like this…I just want MY plans to succeed. Not so fast my friend…it is the Lord’s purpose that matters.

So…The rest of my week will hold some of the normalcy I need…and we get to do it all again Friday.

Plans…..

After almost 16 years in one location its time to relocate. Not that far really…from one side of town to the other. From the culdesac to the countryside. From high speed internet to who knows what?!

Yesterday I began packing my home study. Its crazy how much personal history is there. Twenty years of journals. Maps from various trips around the country and around the world. Books, books, and more books. Too many baseball caps.

I remember years ago giving my boss a hard time about a yard sale she was doing. I told her I could come to her house, analyze what she was selling and by reverse reasoning, discover what she valued.

Yesterday I took close notice of the things I kept and began to see a pattern of what I value.

The maps tell me that I actually thought I might get back to some of those places. I wonder…if I’d known how many of them were one-time gifts, would I have been more present? Would I have paid closer attenti0n to the sights, sounds, smells, sensations?

The journals tell me that reflection has been and continues to be a large part of my day to day learning. They tell me that I believe that daily reading, reflection, and prayer are how we become better people, deeper, substantial.

The pictures, so many pictures, show me the things that I wanted to hang on to as memories. The people I have come to love from all over the world.

The books all feel like old friends as I’ve done my best to be a life long learner. That’s perhaps the easiest parts…life continues to teach us if we are open to the lessons.

The boxes are stacking up. this whole process reminds me of a song…

This Old House

There are fifty liquor boxes in my hall
And a hundred empty nails on my wall
There’s a sign out in my yard that reads “For Sale”
And if this old house could cry the tears would fall
There are bargain hungry vultures everywhere
Buying broken toys, old clothes, and Tupperware
The phone’s been taken out, they’ve stopped the mail
And if this old house could talk I’d say a prayer

I’ve been strong and I’ve been sturdy
And I’ve weathered every storm
I’ve always kept your family safe and warm
Now you’re packing up the laughter
And you’re sweeping out the tears
If this old house were built on memories
I would stand a thousand years
This old house, this old house
If this old house were built on memories
I would stand a thousand years

Take another look before you lock my door
Where your shoes have worn the finish from my floor
Listen to my banging pipes and my creaking stair
Let your boy slide down my banister once more
I’ll remember where you hid the extra key
Where the hammer and the band aids used to be
I will smell your morning coffee in the air
And I’ll see you hanging tinsel on the tree

Soon it will be time to take that last look and drive out of the neighborhood for good. And for a new beginning. What will the future hold? I guess we’ll know soon enough. In the mean time…could you hand me the tape gun?

mikewoods

Random thoughts…

Plans

Moving