When you have nothing to tell…
Today I was folding 12 loads of laundry at the laundromat — a task that left a lot of time for thinking, especially since the two TVs were playing dueling soap operas. Turning to the load of hot-from-the-dryer darks, I picked up one of my husband’s work shirts.
“He won’t need these anymore,” I thought as I pressed out the wrinkles with my hands.
The semester is over, the students have moved out, and this week will be focused on shutting down the cafe for the summer. Looming in front of us is the arbitrary date we’ve set for our transition back to the Pacific Northwest.
The first week in July is launch time. We’re at T-minus 57 days, and counting, till we head north on Interstate 5 over the Grapevine and through the Siskiyous.
Everyone’s curious about what the future holds. Everyone, including us.
What will we be doing?
Where will be living?
What church will we be attending?
The answer is the same: God only knows. I don’t say that sarcastically, bitterly or flippantly. It’s the truth of our current situation.
Our peace regarding this move is unwavering, despite the fact that God hasn’t revealed to us much more of the plan beyond: “GO.”
So, for those of you who have been looking for an update on our move…there you have it. We’re moving the first week of July. Boxes will soon start being packed. Yard sale piles are already in progress. Some sad goodbyes have taken place. God has it all under control.