God is always working to make His children aware of a dream
that remains alive beneath the rubble of every shattered dream,

a new dream that
when realized will release a new song, sung with tears,

till God wipes them away
and we sing with nothing but joy in our hearts

--Larry Crabb


Sunday, August 15, 2010

Misc

Another awkward moment in my life. I find myself as a recluse in a dark corner of the laundry mat curiously scanning the room for quarters that have tucked under the corner of a machine somewhere. There are none. Laundry became #1 priority this morning as I realized that my last clean outfit was worn two days ago. You can rationalize a lot at the fair. I can always find someone smellier, dirtier, and sweatier then me--making it OK to wait just one more day for laundry. Then the unthinkable happens. I stop at the restroom to--well--what else do you stop at the restroom for? I carefully set my shower bag on the back of the toilet because there is no way I'm putting it on the floor and there are no hooks. I finish emptying my bladder for the 3rd time already this morning and flush. Then out of nowhere, my last pair of clean underwear makes an appearance in the toilet. I am thrown into an instant dilemma. To retrieve or not to retrieve? Time is of the essence. I will not get my fingers wet because I do have standards, you know. I must act quickly. Turning my head to the side I make a dive for it. Success. Now what? I stand there holding my dripping item in my hand contemplating my next move. The trash or the towel? Towel wins and I'm off to the laundry mat. It is not easy being me.

It has been a week since I have seen my Craig. 11 nights since I have slept in my own bed. If I weren't scheduled to work in Iowa a few days this week I'd leave right now. It is not that I am not having a good time with my family or at the fair, but more that I just feel so unsettled. 5 consecutive nights is as long as I have spent at home since we moved. I know that I will return to a house decorated with packing paper, cardboard boxes, and miscellaneous household items strewn about. I know that it will be in desperate need of a good cleaning. Yet, I long for the rhythm of daily life that I have only truly felt when at home.

More than anything, I feel thankful. How many people wander through life never feeling a rhythm? Just living day to day and having a constant feeling of unsettledness (if that is even a word). At least I know that the day will come soon when I can quit living out of the trunk of my car and be home with my husband and that peace within will find me once again.

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