“Then it comes slow, in a low, quiet voice that I have to strain to hear. Just that maybe…maybe you don’t want to change the story, because you don’t know what a different ending holds.”
One thousand Gifts~Ann Voskamp
My story changed. Took a turn from what I had planned. I argued with God, after all, I am a good planner, right down to the color coded lists and index cards.
Another thing to let go in this.
I needed help. For a while, I needed someone with me.
Our solution; not a great one but certainly doable. During the week, while my husband worked, I stayed with his sister, our resident family nurse. Nursing her life. Her help, a blessing.
It was a hard decision to make, but one we knew we had to do. We felt so far apart, though it was only twenty minutes or so.
It was a difficult way to live, not used to being apart. A hard few months of back and forth. Missing out on sharing the little things in our days.
Good mornings, bed heads, and smiles at the coffee pot. Goodbye and hello kisses. The feeling of coming home, every night next to him.
Autumn was upon us, our favorite time of year. The pumpkins and mums on my front porch, fall flag flying in the breeze; seeing them there every weekend, seemed to make me sadder. More homesick.
Everything familiar seemed to be slipping away. My body. My home. The ability to do the simplest of things.
I would sit in my sister in law’s den, watch the sunrise across the road.
It was during this time God began to whisper in my spirit. “You could make a home here, right there across the road.”
“Really Lord? I like living in town.”
I would fly far away to the quiet of the wilderness. Psalms 55:7 NLT
The quiet solitude. Family support within minutes of our porch. The view. The sunrises. The geese, the turkeys (hanging out in the back yard as I am writing this). A space to rest, yet feel secure.
Nurse Sister in Law just across the road, the other sister in law within steps of my door.
I called my sweet man to share with him what I thought God may be calling us to do. Whenever I would call him with those words, he tended to get a little eggy (my favorite 3 year old made up word).
I heard the sigh. The, “we’ll talk.” We were not uncomfortable where we were. It was downright convenient to all the things we loved, until the big changes came. The ones we did not ask for, but were called to walk through.
We had never bought the little house in town we lived in. Seemed it never worked out. Seemed God was already making a way for the wilderness move.
We talked it over. Made the decision. Began to make plans.
We opted for a mobile home. A space I could manage. Move around safely. Feel some semblance of normality.
Invested in a large deck. A place to ponder, read and write, watch the sunrise. Be together and just be.
We moved forward. I had set a target date. Prayed for it all to fall into place. It did, right down to the very day.
Watched as family and friends, packed and moved our things.
My Soul Sister, showing up with rubber gloves, snacks, and a smile. Cleaned and washed the refrigerator and more.
The efficiency with which it fell into place. From God, I’ve no doubt.
He planted the seed. Made the way. We followed, not once looking back.
I never thought I would live this far out. The payoff, a night sky filled with stars. Misty fogs that roll across the field. The Grace of God stretches out before me.
Meeting us here on our big deck. In our large view. Our humble little home.
Learning a new way.
I took care of you in the wilderness, in that dry and thirsty land.
Hosea 13:5 NLT
I don’t perceive to know the twist and turns our story will take; for now we are quite content in our country living.
Gifts of Grace