The Journey

One of the first rules of unpacking is that it takes a long time! Then, you have to scout down a teenager in the house to help you remember your password to post on your blog....who by the way had been sick in bed for a week...That said, here you go!

We looked somewhat like the Clampett family in our 3 vehicle caravan to MN. First went the 12 passenger van, loaded to the ceiling with things too precious to put on a truck as well as necessities for the first week in MN. On the back was our platform trailer strapped down with bins of "stuff". Grandma Dianne followed with her own things and our little ones, showing the patience of Job when our 3 year old son begged to listen to Toby Mac. For 2 days straight. Big Red the faithful Chevy Pick-up played caboose, a rotating child in front with Darryl and our 2 terrified cats safe in the old dog pen in back under a tarp. My potted terrace plants tried to fend off the windy ride amidst the gas and oil cans.

We survived driving into the sunset amidst rush hour in downtown St. Louis and stopped on the west side for the night. I couldn't remember ever being so exhausted. Having a newborn in the house makes one tired. Not enough sleep after 5 weeks on a movie set makes one tired. But this, this was different. My very soul was so weary. Six months of cleaning, organizing, then running a household and training children by myself with a non-resident husband had taken its toll. Multi-tasking of huge proportions had become a way of life. There were weeks when I knew that I was compelled of God to keep pushing ahead, forsaking all else in an effort to get the Conestoga Wagon to MN. Even when Nashville experienced horrible flooding in May, I felt an urgency to take care of my own; He would raise up others to take care of Nashville. Then there was the stress of it all. How on earth could Nashville survive without me? Pride. In bed at night I would mentally go over the day's checklist. What had I forgotten? What needed to be accomplished in the next day? I became accustomed to keeping a pad of paper and pen by my bedside to jot down plaguing thoughts which prevented sleep. Only to find that even in sleep I was either packing up the house or sailing away, waving goodbye to faceless people on the shore.

Not to mention the goodbyes amidst packing for real! I tried to compartmentalize my work to make the most of stolen cups of coffee with dear friends, crying and laughing and crying some more. It didn't matter how much it hurt, I determined to leave with no regrets; like a difficult delivery after 9 months of discomfort, each meal and cup of Joe had become my labor of love.

But oh, it stretched my brain! There were days during packing that, even with a husband finally home and a Grandma and Nana to help, words couldn't make the short trip from brain to mouth. More than once when someone needed me, I responded with a glazed look and a "I dunno. I just can't go there right now, ask me tomorrow." I'm so thankful for grace and forgiveness, I'm sure I caused more than one offense!

Tuesday's journey through the beautiful changing scenery of rural Missouri and Iowa was much the same, pretty silent. It simply took too much energy to converse, and I needed the quiet to allow thoughts I had shoved aside for weeks the time to process through. As we traveled into Minneapolis at sunset and on down country roads towards the farm, God's refreshment came. My van was filled with anticipation and lighted hearted chatter! We pulled in about 8:30 at night, the kids all disembarked with great excitement. I unlocked the door and released them to explore their new home.

"Mama, it's beautiful!" "Mama, have you seen the windows?" "Mama, is my room the one that faces the front?" And then, "Mama, where's the other bathroom? WHAT? You mean there's only one?" "Hey Mama, where's the dishwasher?" And finally, "Mama, is THAT really OUR barn?" "Oh Mama, have you ever seen so many stars?"

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters, He restores my soul." Psalm 23:1-2.

"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning." Psalm 30:5b

"You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, to the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever." Psalm 30:11-12.