ok, we’re down to the wire. a truck is coming today to cart off the last bit of furniture and household detritus that no one else wants. utilities are about to be canceled and prescriptions refilled. the suitcases (all seven of them) are lined up, about to be filled with must-have possessions.
all around me, life in dacula, georgia goes on as normal. inside our home, nerves are jangling and stomachs are fluttering. or is that churning?
life as we know it is about to change big time.
our house closes at 3:00 on Friday. the new owners gave us one more day to get the house cleaned and last few items picked up. then we get on the road Saturday afternoon for our cross-country farewell tour.
chicago, iowa, nebraska, california, texas, arkansas and florida here we come! with car loaded, we’ll head due north then west.
i keep listening to myself for any deep insights about this upheaval we are creating. none today. all i know is that despite an occasional tear, katherine’s intermittent despair of not being able to go to prom (even though that event is about 6 years from now), the heart tug of having to find homes for our cats and saying more goodbyes to dear friends, we’ve made the right decision.
each step along the way i see/feel affirmation. a flash of red outside my window signals to me that we are not alone and all is well.
years ago i spent the day at the monastery in conyers, georgia, enjoying hours of quiet and reflection. i can’t remember the minor or major crisis i was having at the time, but i desperately needed the silence of that sacred space to help me make it through.
that day was overcast just like my mood. intermittent rain and strong winds reflected my inner turmoil. i was really quiet miserable.
after hours inside, i moved outdoors to a small courtyard. sitting on a bench, i felt the wind die down. the sun broke through the clouds. the flash of a cardinal’s wing in the nearby tree caught my attention. at that moment, my heaviness of heart lifted. peace flooded in. all was right with my world. all was well.
since that day, i’ve seen the flash of red on many occasions. times when i needed a boost or reassurance. that cardinal or one of his many cousins has been a silent visual reminder to me that the words of Julian of Norwich are profoundly true:
“all is well, all will be well.”
that flash of red appeared this morning. right outside my window. it was there a few days ago as well. this adventure of ours is going to be just fine.
do cardinals live in Ecuador?