Since August I have been clutching a runaway roller-coaster as it crashed through a collapsing building. You know the “fire and flood” metaphor… well, it wasn’t a metaphor in my case… but we’ll get to that. Let’s back up to July when Berly and I realized that we could not live on my low-level wages, that I needed more training to land an adequate job, and that my best option was to go into counseling. The right program fit was a school in the opposite corner of the country, and I started inquiring, thinking to start in the spring semester. But they only accepted new students in August… one month away. We both said, “That’s insane!” But should we wait another year while our savings dribbled away each month?
They assured us that acceptance would be valid for a year, so I started the process: updating my resume, getting references, requesting transcripts, and writing a couple of essays while we took our vacation to the west coast. We joked about the craziness of uprooting ourselves and moving across country in a 3-week time frame. Finally, Berly asked me, “So what would it take, how would it be possible?” And ever the problem-solver, I laid out a theoretical plan, which she outrageously declared workable. “Are we really doing this?” we asked each other incredulously. I was accepted into the program with barely two weeks to give in my notice at work and transfer my Home Depot job from the Southeast to the far Northwest corner of the continental U.S. It felt like moving to a foreign country.
I was scheduled to work until the day before leaving, with 3 1/2 days in hand to drive 3000 miles, just in time to reach school for the first day of classes. Berly would come later. I had to sell my cast-iron jointer and repair and sell my zero-turn mower and trailer; I had to fix my truck, get a student loan, plan my trip and living arrangements in Washington, register for classes, get our rental house ready for final inspection. It was a crazy two weeks, but far saner than what followed.
Kimberly found the metaphor into which we jumped, a scary new twist in our pilgrimage. We clung to our trust in a God who was an unmoving rock in our ever-confusing and unpredictable journey only to realize that God is not static, but always moving, inviting us into ever-fresh insight and experience. He is full of surprises, shocks that pry our fingers from our clenched securities. Peter Mayer’s lyrics speak for us:
Janathan Grace Reflections 
ah, there you are dear brother! So nice to hear from you again. A lovely Christmas present to “hear” our voice from over there on the other side of the continent. Sending love and hugs and kisses to Kimberly and the pups.
hmm. doesn’t let me edit typos! – that was supposed to read “to hear YOUR voice” …. just missed the “y”
I kind of like that idea that we have a common voice! Yes, I don’t have a lot of space. I started studying for next semester the same day I finished finals. I feel that stressed with this unusual educational experience, like I can’t really get my footing, partly of course because last semester was insane. Love you!
Great to hear how God opened many doors for you to be transplanted. Can’t wait to hear more. Merry Christmas!
Really looking forward to Part 2,3, and more! Merry Christmas!!