I’m finally set up in my new home office and eager to check back in with you. I trust God has been watching over you and the people you love since we’ve been apart. As most of you know, I’ve moved and I’m excited about all God will do for me and for Bruce in our new 114-year-old house. We won’t be driving around town in a golf cart anymore, and one day soon my little grandsons will have to call me something besides Florida grandma, but that is still ahead. We’ll get to know each other soon. 

If you haven’t relocated from one state to another, one lifestyle to another, one town to another recently, you may not have thought much about what it means to make that kind of transition. Some parts of it are like going up the slope of the roller coaster. You look out and take in the delight of people below, and then tremble a bit about what happens when you get to the top. For a moment, while you can still breathe, you work on trusting the coaster builder and saying your prayers early. With the creaking wheels taking you higher, you wonder if you should turn back before it’s too late to change things. Ultimately, you hit the top, look out, and suddenly find yourself going ninety miles an hour, hands in the air, leaving it all to God because there’s nothing you can do anyway, and hoping the ride will be smooth from there. Screaming is still an option. When you get past the panic and then the exhilaration that follows, you finally come to an easy stop. You’re there. All is well. It’s all good. Your wobbly knees thank you for moving forward.

Let me explain a bit about our roller coaster beginning. Once we waved the moving van away from the Florida driveway, we finished up our work in the house and got ready for our flight to our new home the next day. We were weary, but expectant and happy, the first part of our transition was done.  After an easy flight, and resting up at our hotel, we went to see the house at 7AM. It was early, and our Florida furniture wasn’t arriving until the next day, so we were anxious to get some preliminary things done. The view was looking good as we pulled up to our front door. My daughter had graced the steps with some petunias and a welcome flag. Just as we opened the door, we smelled the fumes, a gas leak, yipes! We called 911 and the fire department was there in fifteen minutes. They turned off the gas, opened windows, and checked for the leak. Turned out to be a cracked pipe on an old dryer in the basement. As we stood outside, an upstairs window shattered and sent a chill down our already nervous spines. Ten minutes after that, a truck arrived from our local furniture store with aur new sofa and chair. Of course, it couldn’t be delivered to the house, so I sent them out back by the garage. I couldn’t get the garage door open, and the truck driver was clearly frustrated by all this chaos. Just then, my son, who lives close by, came walking toward me. As I broke into sobs, the truck driver kept saying, “It’s okay, Lady.” Whew!

Well, it was okay. The ride is over now, and the house is clearly a place to call home. My wobbly knees are thanking God that we moved forward. Hoping for a smoother ride from here. Send up a prayer if you think of us. 

Blessings to you all.