And just like that, it happened

As I’ve aged, all of my good and bad days are speeding past me like a bullet.

I could feel the move coming every morning as I tossed and turned hours before the sun would rise. So many details to track. Several lists all at once banging around in my waking delirium.

Took me three days to get packed and relocated across the state. It was the hottest day of the summer up here in the Metroplex. All my worldly possessions boxed up and sardined into a single truck. Made me think again about the true value of all this material gain. In the days before, I spent almost a week sleeping everywhere but my own bed, and not even in a bed sometimes. The junk collectors had taken my worn-out bed and getting into the new place took longer than I planned. Sleeping in your own bed can be a blessing beyond words.

The value of sorting and sifting

Be sure that you’re hanging on to what will sustain you in the long days. 

I moved to a townhouse that has a garage. A place to store all my 40+ years of married junk. I promise that I got rid of truckloads of it. As I sit here in my new little space I’m so thankful I no longer have a library of 2000 books! It’s always a shock to discover all the debris that has settled into the crevasses and cracks of my life. When I as a little boy, I never imagined I’d grow up to be the proprietor of a flea market.

The new kitchen is about a quarter of the size I’m used to. I’ve been searching for the silverware these past three days. The garage is a staging area. The movers labeled each box. But no silverware. Saturday my house back in Houston was being cleaned after the emptying. I got a text and photo. My silverware never left its home in the drawer.

By the way, that house of mine hasn’t sold yet. The final river to cross. I’m not so anxious about this final resolution. God has been taking faithful care of my every step – even through so many dark days. I’m just worried in the waiting.

“Worry is the interest you pay on a debt you may not owe.” ― Keith Caserta

Let purpose give meaning

We all need a theme song to hum in our ears to take us through the grey days. 

As I start to get used this new place, this new life, I keep hearing new noises. Back at my house that would worry me. What kinds of critters have moved into the attic? Those nasty squirrels are back at it chewing away at my roof! But now, the sounds all around me shouldn’t cause bother. It’s just all the people living above and right next to me. I’m wedged into a new world.

Found a church to visit five minutes away. Lots of opportunities for the whole family to plug in. That’s a big part of my mission now. It’s very difficult for an academic who studies religion to sit in a service and not compose long lists for a research study. Visiting is a good experience, but there’s no place like home. One day I’ll make a new home.

When that feeling of angst creeps in and it seems as if I’ve gone back in time to earlier days by myself and living in places like this, I remind myself, this is not retirement, it’s a mission.

My next chapter

Almost all of my friends are now walking through or toward the next chapter in their lives. So much was never planned. 

Most of the boxes have been unpacked and empties put back in the garage. Now, what to hang on the walls? I have waaay too much and not enough space. Maybe I should organize a rotation plan? I put up a very large portrait of my family in my new bedroom. It’s become famous because my grandson is right in the middle of the grouping and is posing with a mesmerizing stare. He was only five at the time. He has drawn me 273 miles to now be close by his side.

“Sometimes the right hug from the right person at the exact right time makes all the wrong in the world disappear…” ― Sarah Ockler

He’s seven and getting ready for 2nd grade. A remarkable stage. Every time I walk into the room he jumps up and gives me a hug. Those are worth at least a hundred dollars apiece. You can’t FaceTime that kind of love. Just what I needed at this stage of second guessing and readjusting. His innocent gestures are a perfect sign that I’m right where I should be. God always moves. But you must keep your eyes open to catch him in the act.

I’m back in a bed now. My new bed, in my new residence, in a new city, ten minutes from my family. I’m not sure what I will do with my days once I get settled. As I’ve been running errands, a part-time job at Target or even greeting at Walmart might be options to keep me busy. Buc-ees has always appealed to me, but I’m afraid I’d be too distracted people watching. The minute I got here I was on call. In fact, I was up here a week BEFORE moving to help manage ice hockey camp each day.

Today I picked up my granddaughter from her preschool and took her to gymnastics so mom could take brother to a doctor’s appointment. We had a great time and a little box of grapes. From the back in her car seat, this three-year-old gives me very specific and deliberate driving directions. Remarkably accurate. She’s as good as I am right now.

This past Saturday morning was spent at ice hockey and skating practice. My nights are no longer restless. I’ve been dreaming big, even early in the morning after the upstairs neighbors have finished their bowling practice.

All signs are good for the days ahead.

“Drag your thoughts away from your troubles… by the ears, by the heels, or any other way you can manage it.” ― Mark Twain

Is anyone out there?

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