|First meal: artisan toast with|
cranberry goat cheese and
pickled herring. (Yes, we're
eating our way through the pantry.)
Our kids and 2-year-old granddaughter moved in with us a month and a half ago. When we negotiated living together, everyone promised not to push me into an unfinished space: I've done it twice before and it's unsettling (to say the least). So while Timo and W left for work each day, M and I have been doing cooking and doing chores around the boxes (theirs and ours) in the hallways and rooms.
The whole project started in April, after we felt called to move to Indonesia next year. We had an unfinished basement space, impossibly heaped with shelves, boxes, a commercial pool table, and years of unexamined storage. Our kids' lease was expiring in the fall; we'd need a place to stay on furloughs. After confirmation of our appointment, I sold our dining table, movers shifted the pool table into what used to be our dining room, and the project got underway.
|A first look at our living room / bedroom|
Slowly but surely, a home emerged. W and our son scrubbed 20 years of living off the concrete floors and painted them white. Friends helped plumb, drywall, and paint walls and ceilings the same white color. Our friend Terry wired the basement, asking, "Won't the living room be too bright with six sconces @ two bulbs each?"
I can safely say, "Nope. Just right." I'm not a friend of darkness by day.
|Another side of the room|
Strangers have come and gone, hauling away our past life. Furniture, rugs, cookware, and decor found new homes through Craigslist and Freecycle, funding our build-out below. Reef tanks, dogs, and "future replacements" for the house ... gone. My brother purchased our friend's grand piano from the living room. Gradually we've emptied the kitchen, bathrooms, and my office.
|And a comfy chair behind the|
zebra hide footstool.
We spent our first night downstairs yesterday. The mattress is comfy and we woke when we were rested: there are no windows to tell us when the sun comes up. Before work, W sorts info on his computer, a few feet away from where I type.
Today, it seems farther up two flights of stairs to our bedroom to empty our bedroom closet than it was coming down from upstairs. But that baby and our relocation to Indonesia is waiting for no one. Off we go.
*I have ventured to speak to the Lord, although I am but dust and ashes. Genesis 18:27 NASB
*Christ says, "Everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened." Luke 11:10 NEV
*Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Galatians 6:2 NIV
*Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
Moravian Prayer: Loving Father, although we were born from dust and ashes, may we ask for blessings when we are in need. When we seek you Lord, let us find you there. Reassure us that you will answer. Amen.
*(CS Lewis, to Mary Willis Shelburne, June 5, 1961: On being overconcerned about the past of others and of our own.) We must beware of the Past, mustn’t we? I mean that any fixing of the mind on old evils beyond what is absolutely necessary for repenting our own sins and forgiving those of others is certainly useless and usually bad for us. Notice in Dante that the lost souls are entirely concerned with their past. Not so the saved. This is one of the dangers of being, like you and me, old. There’s so much past, now, isn’t there? And so little else. But we must try very hard not to keep on endlessly chewing the cud. We must look forward more eagerly to sloughing that old skin off forever—metaphors getting a bit mixed here, but you know what I mean.