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Archive for the ‘moving’ Category

Plan B

In God, moving, plans, prayer, stress on August 28, 2009 at 11:38 am

There is no Plan B.

1966 Plymouth Fury VIP - #4(3)

It was 4:15 p.m. and the cables had been hooked to the ’66 for an hour to no avail.  My heart sank.  The old girl just wouldn’t stay running.

I assessed all the possibilities of not getting involved, but the marching clock was a cruel dictator and we were just about out of time.

I left my packing frenzy in the office and started down the stairs.  At the landing, I looked out at my husband, Pete, sitting in his 1966 Plymouth Fury VIP which he named after his Mother, Morine. I could tell by the expression on his face that he too was disappointed. His buddy was bent over the engine searching in earnest for the solution.

The Fury hadn’t run in a year. It’s an asset, by way of its age, a classic car, a sweet ride, but since we couldn’t drive her to our new home, we had to haul her up on a trailer. The dilemma at 4:15 was how do we get her on the trailer?

At 3200 lbs., Morine wasn’t going to get there by our brute strength. She had to stay running.

I walked down our gravel drive and said what no one wanted to say. It’s time for Plan B.  What the plan was no one knew but Plan A didn’t work.  The guys looked at me as if I had delivered a eulogy. I left them to mourn and headed back to my mess.

I had no sooner sat down in the chair to finish packing the box I had abandoned when I heard Morine – running!

I ran to the window and looked down at the driveway.  There she was on the trailer! I ran down the stairs, out the back door, down the driveway screaming and jumping like a crazed sports fan whose team had just won the pennant, praising God at the top of my lungs – Plan A WORKED!

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Within two hours of that blessed, victorious, divine moment, we were packed up and ready to drive away from our precious little House of Grace in Peoria, Illinois. I snapped this picture on my cell phone as a constant reminder to me that God is with us and has great things waiting for us in our new home.

But, Plan A was only half over. Would Morine start and run long enough to drive her off the trailer at the condo?  Of course, that wasn’t the only question. Would there be a ‘VISITOR’ parking space for her?  If she wouldn’t run, who will help us push her?  Certainly I couldn’t push her!

I started formulating another Plan B.

The three-and-a-half hour drive went off without a hitch and we arrived at midnight. My hubby parked the truck with Morine in tow on the street and we crashed hard.

The next day we drug our aching bodies out the door and discussed how the parking of Morine was going down. Thankfully, there was a ‘VISITOR’ space in perfect alignment with the path he planned to get her off the trailer. So far so good.

When Pete turned the key she roared like a lion, commanding the applause of a half-dozen bored kids from several balconies. He was in heaven. So he revved her again, well, a couple more times, just for the kids.

He put her in reverse and she obediently rolled off the trailer, then died.  Plan B was now in force.  But there was no Plan B.  We were stuck.  I had zero strength to push her, though the path to the parking space was downhill.  I guess Plan A was for me to push!

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Nope.  Plan A was walking up to us!  A man from around the corner who came out to throw out his trash, got distracted by the purring lion and when she died he said, ‘I can help you!’ and pushed her right snug into her little cage.  Isn’t she pretty sittin’ there?

I stood there with my mouth hanging open.  There was no Plan B!  God had a perfect Plan A the whole time.  We asked for His help and he gave it – all the way to the very last minute.  Yes, our hope was that she would run and stay running, but he gave us what we needed.  She ran up onto the trailer in Peoria – that’s what we needed.  She ran off the trailer at the condo – that’s what we needed.

End of Plan A.  No Plan B.  God wins. I learn.

Rubbish

In change, exhaustion, Jesus, moving, stress on July 27, 2009 at 8:57 am

I got to church at the last worship song and joined the throng still in the throne room.  I was exhausted, smelly and very late, but I just had to be there.

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The previous four days took us three hours away to clean, purge and pack up our house to make what we thought would be our final move.  Our venture ended late Saturday night and when we dropped in bed we weren’t sure if we’d make it to church.  We got up late and I hadn’t showered, but I just had to get there.

Settling in my seat, I hushed my mind and calmed my heart in preparation to receive God’s word from the pulpit when a song lyric caught my ear during the offertory.

Take everything I have until all I have is You, You Lord Jesus.

I chuckled to myself. Yes, please take it all! I had no desire to see another thing, another box, another piece of furniture for the rest of my life.  I never want to own a house again, I thought, I never want to see another basement!

All I want is You, Lord, I prayed in my aching heart as the soloist sang. Take everything.

My mind went back to Friday at the landfill where things from the last 15 years of my life has by now been shredded under the compactor’s teeth and thrust into the earth. Why did I save it all?  Why did I hold on to it for so long only to watch it be tossed out of the back of a truck?  I was so humbled and engulfed with shame as we bumped along the dusty road away from the most putrid smell I have ever experienced.

It’s all rubbish!  Now I understood what the Apostle Paul meant when he said that all he was – all he is and has is just garbage compared to Christ.

Take everything I have, Lord, until all I have is You.