Moving day had arrived! Family would be the “man-power” and woman-power, too: a nephew, his wife (who is a niece by marriage but as dear as if by blood), another niece and her 14-year-old grandson. Earlier in the week, Mary had come over and she and I together had studied the apartment I was moving into trying to determine what would fit where and what would not be moved.
At 10 a.m., last Saturday, the agreed time to start work, the crew arrived.
First thing, Mary walked her husband through the apartment. Working from her notes, she was saying things like “that goes” and “that doesn’t.” Now, I understood why she took notes when we had been there earlier. Before I knew what was happening, the larger pieces were walking out the door and onto the trailer. So went the morning.
After lunch, it was back to the smaller stuff.
After the work crew left for home, I looked around at what was left and moaned – so much stuff still to be taken care of. That was not the fault of the moving crew. It was just the remnants of a 90-year collection of life events.
I had been sorting through paper work saved over many years and other things that needed to find new homes. This had been an on-going project for weeks. No, make that months.
With never having married or had children of my own, it is quite a task to think who would cherish things that had been part of my life collection. The cedar chest built for me by my brother for my high school graduation gift found a home with my nephew. The builder was his Dad. Even my mother’s wedding dress from more than a hundred years ago found a taker.
Yes, it has gone well, but there is still SO much to do. Adding to the quandary are all these pop-up appointments that need to be addressed. It seems every day brings about another “must be done right now” project.
My goal is to be completely out of the house by some time Saturday. That will require a miracle equal to crossing the Red Sea on dry land with thousands of people and their stuff, but our God is able. I can depend on Him to direct the flow of the rest of the week.
A friend, when considering the difference in life style I will have in my new lodging, asked, “But what will you do without your lawn?” Etc. Etc. I responded that I would write a book.
But do you know what I look forward to? The day God calls me home to spend eternity with Him. I don’t know any more about what that looks like than you do, but I do know there will be no more tears, no frustrations, no deadlines, no ill feelings toward anyone – all will be peace and we will spend our time worshiping our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
That’s a move I anticipate. No sorting, no packing, no wondering who would like to have a specific item. Just a quiet home-going.
You, too, can be assured of all that if you invite Jesus into your heart and life. Trust Him today if you haven’t already done so.
If you are reading this, moving day is still ahead of you and quite possibly imminent.