Sunday July 21, 2013:
A nervous unsettling is enveloping me. Reminiscent of the background music that slowly builds matching the approaching crescendo of tension in a thriller movie, I’m on the edge of my seat tapping my toe to non-existent music.
The events of the past month have all borne the consistent theme: let go, reduce, release. My online business of ten years: sold. Our black SUV with dark tinted windows that once made a man nervously approach me at the library and question if I was a government official and if I was perhaps following him: sold. Our extra truck that has been listed on Craig’s List forever: sold. Our trailer for hauling firewood out of the forest: sold. As we wait for someone to come look at our camping trailer (someone who heard from a friend that we might be looking to sell it) I am wondering if I should expect anything but the same to end this day. Moreover, as we empty things out of our life, I am left wondering what great adventure is hiding out behind the veil of God’s grand plan.