Tuesday, March 30, 2010

like little children

Yes, it's true. I'm doing this again. Moving. For the past six months, I've been asking God where He wants me. Through a gauntlet of changes and happenings, I started thinking about returning to Meadville. When the thought first entered my head, perceived probability was dreadfully low. Job. House. Ugh. Where to start? So I told God that if He wants me in Meadville, He's going to have to find me both.

So here's the run-down:

1) Job.
Still working on paperwork for the job. of. my. DREAMS! at a redidential facility for teens in state custody. Please pray everything goes off without a hitch. The "paperwork" is a source of sheepish embarrassment, actually. I home-schooled my last few years of high school, which equals a dearth of an accredited diploma. I had every intention of taking a GED test, even pre-testing in Maryland before moving to PA to teach school... but the actual test got shoved to the back burner in the busy years that followed. So... as uneducated as this makes me appear, the agency checked my references, then instructed me to notify them once I've taken a GED test. I feel reasonably optimistic I'll be hired... but will most definitely be breathing easier once it's official. I'm scheduled to take the GED next week, after which I'll most likely wait a few weeks to receive the coveted paper. Red tape, red tape. I just want to get this show on the road.

2) House.
My friend Bekah and I rented a dear little house in Meadville. Its backyard is seventy-five percent garden. Yes, garden! Living in town and having your own garden is definitely "having your cake and pie both". Even better? The bedroom Bekah insisted I occupy (she's a really, really nice friend) opens to a little balcony overlooking the backyard. And get this: the room we'll use as a sewing/art/project room sports an actual window seat. Sound idyllic? Once we have it cleaned (and some of the rooms repainted), it will be. I've been driving the eleven-hour round-trip to Meadville the past few weekends to work toward getting the house livable. Bekah and her friend, Cyndi, helped this past weekend. Does the fact that we're nearly finished cleaning the first floor and haven't started the second floor tell you anything about its grimy condition? From all appearances, neither the previous tenants nor their predecessors owned bucket, nor rag, nor soap, nor any such thing that belongeth in a house. One thing we quickly learned: everything is never as it seems. Discovering original colors on walls, ceilings, and oven splashboards adds an additional incentive to clean. :)

All this planning, working, waiting, bill-paying, and decision-making is wearing. Does it have to leave me as exhausted as I have been the past few weeks?

Last evening, while playing Reuben and Justin, I felt the start of a re-birth. I had forgotten how much fun it is to play with little boys. We raced matchbox cars down a ramp, again and again. Whose car won was irrelevant. The greater the wreck in which the cars came to rest, the louder we cheered. Any cars not wheels-in-the-air towed their buddies to the "fix-it shop". Then, the race began again. Seconds before the eleventh race was about to commence, Justin, aged three, froze. Wide blue eyes contradicting his impish mouth, he warned me, "Da fox is comin! He gonna eat you ALL UP!" This verdict necessitated frightened screams until Reuben, aged four, drew himself to his full kneeling height and proclaimed, "Don't worry, I'll protect you. When he comes, I'll SHOOT HIM DEAD!" Being much relieved, I helped array another race. Suddenly, the fox DID attack! True to his word, Reuben shot him dead. Hereafter, our races were delightfully interrupted by the rampages of the resurrecting fox. (Hey, if cats have nine lives and foxes are cooler than cats, how many lives must THEY have?) In fact, his maraudings grew to such ferocity that Justin had to join Reuben in protecting me from a gruesome death.

In laughter, imagination, care-free play, and downright silliness, Reuben and Justin helped me do something I hadn't succeeded in doing for several weeks... relaxing completely. Letting go.

No wonder Jesus tells us to become like little children.


Carla said...

HEY!!!! Let me come help!!!!! I have experience cleaning trashed apartment. If there's a stove, let me get my hands on it.:) I didn't know you were in the area on the weekends until Sunday someone told me. Seriously, I'd love to come clean. That bedroom and garden sound too good to be true.

Becca said...

Oh, Carla! Bless your heart! It's not as if you're not busy enough with your own life, I'm sure! I'll be out again this weekend, so come on over. :)