Rooted - Day Eight

June 8, 2022
Rooted

Day Eight leaves me crashing into bed - exhausted and happy.

After being sprayed by a leaking kitchen sink here on Nanny Island for over two months, I decided that it was going to end - today.

Out came the wrenches (and only a few choice words) after I knocked my head off the compact plumbing down under the old wooden sink.

And so far - no leaks!

Leah and I snuck back home to our “real” house and tried to make some sense out of the basement. It has simply been overrun by seasonal stuff going in and out.

We’ve been living between houses now for over eight months and that means we’ve covered practically every season. So the flip flops needed to be fished out from under the snowboarding gear which was
buried under a mountain of tennis gear… etc, etc, etc.

And so today, we brought some order to our HOME.

Our HOME… where the boundary lines fall for us in pleasant places.

A place filled with so much stuff we've somehow easily managed to live without for nearly a year.

A place full of memories and blessings from top to bottom.

We laughed as we sorted through the randomness…

And then we moved on to prep for the soon-arriving canning season. Five hundred+ empty jars waiting to be filled with salsas, jams, pickles, peaches and sauce.

It’s a daunting, but rewarding task.

And something about this day just felt so beautifully…
Typical.
Idyllic.
Joyful.
Hopeful.

Moments of planning…
Moments of straightening…
Moments of remembering…

“The goodness of God
in the land of the living.”

And even as we try to plan for the future
We know we can’t.

Every day is like a giant puzzle…
A shrouded mystery.

And so for all our planning,
Something always has to shift.

Some days it’s caregiving.
Some days it’s attitudes.
Some days it’s pain.
Some days it’s medicine.

But in all the change
In all the mystery
In all the planning…

We know -

God never stops working
All things out…
FOR OUR GOOD.

Our ultimate HOME is not here and -
The ultimate plan doesn’t end here

When roots go deep
Deep into the soil…

Come what may - above ground…
Strong roots anchor us.

Rooted in Him
The Cross of Christ my guide
🔆🔆🔆