"Awake, O north wind; and come, thy south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out." Song of Solomon 4:16
Thanks to Charles H. Spurgeon's writings, among other things, I'm gradually coming to grips with this transient life. If we have to move every year or so, then so be it. I will try to find something good in it. Really, I will. After 32 years of wedded bliss with the same man, I should know by now that his intentions are honorable and unselfish. He wants what's best for all of us. I have faith in him because I have faith in Him.
I honestly don't know how people make it through each day without some kind of faith in Someone greater than themselves. What carries them through the rough spots in life? The dark valleys. The storm that blows through and destroys everything in its path.
There was a storm system yesterday that cut right through the heart of this country. We had some tense moments, wondering if friends and loved ones back in the Midwest were all right. A phone call or two, and we can be at ease, knowing that they are safe and sound. How simple it is to "reach out and touch someone," eh? Apparently, it isn't for some people. They're like "a garden locked up...a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain." For reasons unclear, you're a distant cousin to them instead of a sister. A skeleton in the closet, perhaps. Phone calls and e-mails to them remain either unanswered or not reciprocated. Blood is thicker than water? If it keeps relationships at a standstill, stagnant, not flowing, who needs it?
The tree house, this temporary place we have called "home" for the last year, will be home to some other family soon. We will miss it, the view of the spring-fed lake, the long walks up and down the scenic hills and roads surrounding it. But we will miss the people we've come to know here even more. Good neighbors and friends, all of them.
|Sunset, February 29, 2012, on Lake Tallavana|