The best and worst moving experience ever

10/5/10                                           

We’re getting ready to move.  We’ve been working on it for months now.  Not that my apartment is taking that time—I’m a minimalist, simple and clutter free. (Well, maybe clutter-free is a stretch. But that is the goal anyway.)  It is the basement apartment we have to get ready for living in that is taking our time.  That is part of the irony of where we are moving and the process we have to go through to move there.  Heavenly Father is the great orchestrator though---we see over and over again.  Because of my brain injury, I have minimal driving abilities—it takes brain energy that needs to go to other things.  (Like studying).  For this reason, it is best if I am within walking distance of campus.  But I’m too old, and I have a high school aged son still at home, to be surrounded by the young college kids most apartments would provide.  That puts one of my options, and a good one, in the Tree Street area above the creamery.  At the beginning of the summer we began the search.  We attended various wards in the area to put the word out.  A couple things looked hopeful and then fell through for us.  None of those were in the fourth ward, which we both sensed was the right place for us.  But with zoning laws, we were told it wasn’t going to happen.  We held out hope, feeling this was where we belonged.  The summer came and went and I was beginning to doubt myself.  October would soon be upon us and my contract would be up where we are—which would mean a large raise in rent and another year’s lease.  Yet I felt no urgency.  I had to talk myself into trusting Heavenly Father—reminding myself of my past moving experiences and how well He had orchestrated them to get us where we needed to be.  Then one day in August, I felt we needed to attend the ward again.  We sat next to an elderly woman (92 years elderly) and had a nice conversation with her afterward.  Then in Relief Society, she came up to me with her address and said, “You just come by and then pray about it.”  And we did.  (Apparently zoning allows the elderly to rent out a part of their homes.)  Here is the irony: I am a minimalist and she is 92, was a depression era child, raised 11 children and has gotten rid of very little in all those years.  (She finds a use for everything.) At one point we were compared to Jack Sprat and his wife.  Her yard is full of grapes and peaches and apples and all kinds of edible plants/greens.  I will get to learn about them all.  She is a fascinating woman and we belong together.  Heavenly Father knows what he is doing.