Sometime life just happens too fast and you are just too busy. That’s what the last two days have been like. I really wanted to write, but I just didn’t have the time or the strength to get it done. It all started on Thursday when I worked a double shift at Delta and then went home only to change clothes and go to the church offices to have a sozo appointment. It’s funny, the sozo appointment canceled as I got there and I thought I was going to have some free time to rest and catch up while I waited for Sheryl to complete her sozo appointment.
But I was surprised to find out that a student really needed ministry. I can’t go into details, but it wound up taking until about 1AM. Sheryl and I went with another couple to minister and it was at least 1AM when we got to bed. That wouldn’t have been that bad, but we had to drive up to my house early the next morning to start packing boxes for the move. I would have delayed it except that we had hired four students to help us pack, and I know that they were coming.
So we were really tired when we got up the next morning. Starbucks was open so we didn’t have to make coffee. We got right on the road and we were able to be at the house by 7:30. In fact, two of the guys drove up just as we were getting out of the car. Perfect timing for sure. So we were packing boxes all day from 7:30 until almost 5PM. By then, we were both exhausted. I had been trying to help sort through as it was packed and that was almost a full time job. We had set up a dinner with Peter and Masha weeks before, and it was good to see them, but after we left their house, we just came back and crashed. So I didn’t get to write. But I am learning a lot as I pack.
The main thing is that your home is really where your heart is, not where you have lived for so many years. I don’t mean that I am disregarding friends, but I’m talking about the house itself. My house up north is no longer my home. It’s just a house. I realized that as we were packing. It was the first time that I had ever really verbalized that and it hit me that my ”home” was now at Fieldstone Lane and not Longwood Crossing. It just shows how little it really matters about physical and material things. It’s all a matter of the heart. So, tonight I am home writing this by the fire thanking the Father for his love and provision to give me a home no matter where I am.