It's been months since I moved in. Should anyone have actually been reading #1-10 of my moving blog and wondered what finally happened, I'm here, happily living in my new digs. On moving day, I rented a truck and a flock of friends and family came to help shlep and hours later here I was. There were, as could be expected, some challenges. For instance, while the top of my desk made it, the bottom somehow self destructed. All this time I thought it was made of oak, but it turned out to be fiberboard, making me wonder what else in my life I think is real that isn't. Who knew it even came apart? My amazing grandson Zander (short for Alexander), age 15, took two short bookcases and set the desk top on them as if they were legs. Perfect! Except the desk now stuck out from the wall in my office the length of the bookcases plus I basically lost 12' of bookshelves. Not to worry, at least I have access to my computer. I never would have thought years ago that a computer would matter so much. It's now only as important as say, oxygen.
But what to do with the books that would have gone in those book cases? Well, truth be known, though it looked like I was all unpacked and settled in, if you looked behind the shower curtain in my otherwise cute hall bathroom you would have found the tub piled high with boxes of books. If I didn't have company coming two weeks ago who would need to shower in that tub, the books would still be there. Amazing what company coming motivates you to do.
For the first few weeks I would wake up in the middle of the night surprised I was here. But soon enough Lizzie made the adjustment and so did I. It turns out that the designated dog walking spot for the complex is on the river so Liz and I get to see life on the St. John's river on our early morning walk when the sky is still a bit on the pastel side and a plethora of water birds soar back and forth, calling to one another, seemingly excited about another day as they dip now and again into the river for breakfast. From where I stand or sit at rivers edge, I can look in one direction and see the bridge over the river and the city, the lights of which are dazzling at night (a good vantage point to be praying for my city), or I can look the other way and pretend I'm on a primitive Florida island and wonder how it looked to the early settlers to find such rich and lush territory.
My daughter Ellen and her family live a kyack paddling distance away as there is only one property between her riverside home and my complex, not that I ever really considered taking them up on the kyack offer. It's the getting in and out the intimidates me. But it's wonderful to have them so close. When my visitors came recently we went and sat on her dock, drinking iced tea and watching the daylight sink into the river as fish (I think they're called Mullets) jumped out of the water in mini-purpoise-like immitations and we talked and talked as only old friends can.
Back at my own little home, the wonderful rocking chair I rescued out of someone's trash and painted blue a while back sits on my little patio surrounded by pots of flowers. The big ole' granddaddy trees loom protectively above. With Lizzie on my lap, we often sit and rock at end-of-day and I talk with God about.... well, everything. It sounds idyllic, I know. I'm so grateful to God for His goodness. It's not that there aren't things to be concerned about, or to pray about. There's so much more to my life than where I live. Perhaps I'll get back to blogging about other things, but for now, I just wanted to let you know, anyone reading my moving journal, when you have a giant task in front of you, you only have to do the next thing. And somehow it all gets done and then one day you realize, you're well on the other side of it all. But don't forget to stop and look for the beauty that's around you. No matter where you are, if God's in your life, He will show you the beauty. It starts with who He is!
