Attempted Categories -- Moving Journal #9

Boxes. When in need of boxes do not ask the manager of the supermarket. Go to the produce guy. He will load you up with apple and banana boxes. You need different kinds of boxes for different stuff. Small ones for books or they get too heavy. That's where the Dollar Store dumpstser boxes are good. Waxed boxes are pretty ugly but will serve for things that could spill, like cleaning supplies or food, not that I'm up to packing food yet.

Packing the books in categories turns out to be more tedius than I expected. Some categories are clearly more defined than others, but what category do you put something like "The Psychology of Jesus" in? Is that NT teachings, Jesus or counseling? Do I put "The Uses of the Old Testament in the New" in OT or NT? Not all have to do with God. There's my books on quilting, beading and knitting. Admittedly I do more looking at the pictures than I do any quilting, beading or knitting. Then there are books like "In Praise of Slowness: Challenging the Cult of Speed." I must find some time to finish that book one day. I found books I forgot I had. And others I've had for decades I'm rather attached to like old friends.

In my quest for categorizing my books, first I made piles on the floor. It quickly became too many categories, which meant more piles, and as I added to the piles, they didn't stay stacked due to being of varying sizes, and so the piles soon began to slouch over into each other. About that time, one 14 pound fluffy white ball of bounding enthusiasm named Lizzy (see photo) paid me a visit and that pretty much obliterated most of the deliniations between the categories. So much for that idea. 

I guess I'll put them more in categories on the unpacking end.

  

Comparisons - Moving Journal #6

I've been to the library four times in the past two weeks for books on decorationg ideas. My father always used to tell me to make comparisons before making decisions. Even decorating decisions can be important if you're someone who's afffected by surroundings, color, feng shui, etc. I didn't know I was feng shui sensitive until I read it in one of the decorating books. Live and learn.
I've been dreaming furniture arrangements, walking through the rooms in my mind, trying to figure out where my furniture would fit into the apartment I've committed to live in, even though I haven't signed a lease.  Yesterday I went over to help Ginger pack some more for her move out next Friday, though admittedly it was with an alterior motive of trying to figure out where to put my own stuff there. When I left, I was still feeling like this was not really happening to me, and I again said, "Lord, if this isn't where You want me, please let me know."

Today a friend of mine came over to bring me a load of packing boxes she picked up for me at the Dollar store. She didn't even have to pay a dollar for them. She fished them out of their dumpster. "Y'know," she said, as we talked, "I'm not sure Ginger's apartment is where you're supposed to be." I told her I'd asked the Lord to let me know if it wasn't. "Let's go look at those new apartments near your daughter's," she said. "For some reason, I just think we should go look there." Perhaps this was the Lord's leading. I better go and look. So we did.

The posh apartment complex was spiffy new and yuppy equiped with all you could want. Decorator magazine picture-perfect, for sure. Well laid out and filled with light. But the new synthetic carpeting made my nose itch, and as elegant as it was, to me it seemed sterile. It had no stories to tell, no history to soften it. No character, especially not what my one-time 200 year old Pennslvania farm house had. Nah, not for me.

When we left the new complex which wasn't as near to my daughter's as Ginger's apartment is, we drove to my daughter's to say hello. Two of my teenage grandchildren were home and were so glad to see me, happy to have me stop by. They were both sick so I didn't want to get close to them. I just got an email from Jordan as I was writing this saying he wanted to hug me but being sick, knew he shouldn't. Ah, yes! Living in such close proximity to them would certainly provide the blessing of seeing the kids more often than I do now. There's a reason to live practically next door right there.

What this afternoon did for me was confirm for me that Ginger's soon-to-be-mine apartment was where I should be. Imperfect as it is, even if Richard the landlord doesn't replace the faucets, Ginger says they work fine. I believe it's where God want's me. That's enough for me. I'm at peace with it now.

Trading Spaces - Moving Journal #4

Amazing how God weaves things together. I was beginning to feel discouraged that any of the condo rental apartments I was looking at would be suitable for me to move to as the ones that were available required using community laundry facilities (way too much shlepping) and were not on the group floor (I'm an earth lover.) I had a condo once with a balcony on the fourth floor. I called it my tree house. For dog walking purposes, however, first floors are best and I wanted a patio. Ginger's apartment seemed like what I was looking for, but alas, Ginger lived in it.

Then I heard of a job opportunity with a ministry I work with that would be perfect for Ginger, I thought. Only it would require that she relocate. (Honest, I wasn't trying to get her out of her apartment, it just happened.) Short story, she loved the idea, interviewed for it and got the job. This ministry is the desire of her heart! She was willing to move up there, don't you know. So the trade is I tell her about the job and she tells her landlord about me. Result: She moves out and I move in! Ta dah!!

This all happened within a week or so of when I felt God was telling me to move near my daughter (see Moving Journal #1 below). The condo community is on the water, though unfortunately my unit isn't. But while walking Lizzie we can walk by the water's edge which, being in Florida, includes the most incredible skies and cloud formations. It's located on an inlet of the St. John's River, the only river in the world, incidentally, besides the Nile that flows south to north. From there I can see the dock by my daughter's house which is also on the inlet. My grandkids had the idea that they could get me a kayack or a canoe and I could paddle over. Cute, but I don't think so.

MOVING - Moving Journal #1

I have to move. I had just thanked the Lord that there was nothing I didn't like about living where I do when two days later, on Christmas day I returned from a wonderful family time to find taped to my door a notice. It said, without any holiday greeting whatsoever, mind you, that it is time to renew my lease and oh, by the way, there's a considerable increase in the rent.

My Mom and I had moved to the south seven years ago from Philly. No point in buying something for both of us when she was 85. That was just the practicality of the situation. We found this lovely place which was just perfect for us. Mom happily remained with me till she was 92 and then relocated in the customary way to heaven to be with the Lord and my father. (See my previous blog about Mom.)

Two weeks later a friend moved in with me and we shared the rent which was enormously helpful since Mom's Social Security check ended when she did. However, within hours of the rent increase note on Christmas(did those people have nothing better to do that day?), my roommate informed me that now that she had her certification as a Medical Assistant and had landed a great job with a surgeon, she was going to get her own place. I could see where she'd want to. Everything here, except what is in her bedroom,is mine.

I was now left with the realization that I cannot continue to live in my lovely townhome near the pond (yes, that photo is my pond) with the duckies and herons,and the meadow with the wildflowers, and near my friend Sandy who loves to drive so when we go places together I don't have to. Suddenly I felt dislocated, unconnected, and a bit in shock.

There's only one thing to do when you feel like that - go to God and trust that He has a plan. You just have to find out what it is - that's the tricky part sometimes. I sat in my prayer-chair and asked God what He wanted me to do. I listened. Nothing. Well Lord, I said. I'm going to just read in my Bible where I was up to already. Would you please speak to me about all this. None of this flip open the Bible and point and expect that the verse you land on is His will. Risky business, as far as I'm concerned. As I picked up where I last stopped reading I read,"...lived with their relatives in Jerusalem opposite their other relatives" (1 Chron 8:32). It seemed as clear as day to me. I think God is telling me that I'm suppposed to live near my daughter Ellen and her family. It's not Jerusalem, but the principle is the same - live near your relatives. Ellen and the kids seemed to like the idea as well.

I called my friend Ginger who lives in an condo complex within walking distance of Ellen's home to ask if she knew of any condos for rent. She would check. A day later Ellen and I went to go look at one of several that were available. I gave it only a brief look as it wouldn't be the unit I would take, but it could work. The others are on the first floor which I would prefer. So arrangements were made for me to look at the other units.

In the mean time, even though my faith is firmly in God's caretaking of me, I am going through somewhat of a greiving over loosing my lovely townhome near the pond.... oh you know. It is possible to have faith in God and still feel a bit sad over a loss at the same time.

I don't know who will read this, or even care about me moving, but I'm going to share this anyway - my way of processing through it. Writers, which I am, process by writing. Maybe others will be moving who will be glad to know someone else is sharing their experience.