Finding Home

I lifted my hands and stretched my fingers wide.

Good afternoon and welcome to breezy, cloudy Vermont. This morning as I drove home from dropping Liv off as a junior counselor at Camp Daybreak, I prayed the rosary for letting go. I prayed that Liv would have a safe and wonderful experience caring for those less fortunate than she, that Serena would suffer no asthma attacks in her second attempt at living in her new apartment. And I prayed that Scout would fare well on his own for the first time at Soft Landing. Turning off the road to watch beautiful Lake Champlain, I lifted my hands and stretched my fingers wide, releasing any clinging piece of thought that I could control any of my girls’ or dog’s outcomes.

This past week I tried so hard to control my outcomes, and failed at every turn. Two days personally driven to make Serena’s apartment work out. Three days of stressing out over moving sale activities. Five days of attempting to clean two messy homes. I should have just let go right off. But as you know from following my blog, I don’t go down easy, even while I’m being showered with grace. God must laugh a lot when my name comes up at dinner.

Just take the moving sale. First of all, my friend Kathy helped me box and sort, and she brought tables. On Thursday, my niece Allie drove in from Shelburne to pitch in and keep Liv’s spirits up. And my good friend Joan journeyed a good distance to give us structure, curb appeal, help us price, and set a plan in place in case it rained. It did. On Friday Joan came back to handle the steady flow of customers throughout the day, with good cheer and an ability to make the most of every sale. She realized early that I didn’t know how to sell things very well (I priced something at two dollars that she sold for fifteen) and relegated me to the cash box to work my strengths, counting out change and saying thank you. She stayed until everything was buttoned up for the night.

There’s more. Not only did Joan help, but my neighbor across the street helped too, and her husband brought us beverages. Tara and Joan actually ran the sale, and Tara added many items that made the whole spread appealing to just about everybody. Saturday morning Tara came back, and stayed with us through every cloud burst, making the best of each sale until she thought it time to mark everything free. She created curb appeal too. And my sister Denise brought us lunch. We almost doubled our goal. I haven’t been to Schoolside yet today to see how much we have to pack up. I suspect it isn’t much. One more funny thing. I tried to sell an older woman her own purse. I asked two dollars for it.

Grace at every turn. Though my life is often challenging, I’ve no shortage of love and support. I hope one day that I soften enough to wake up every morning blown away at my good fortune. With fists unclenched, hands open, fingers wide, and feeling blessed by my shored-up heart.

When you finally let go, do good things happen? Check back next week for another segment of finding home.


yard sale






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Finding Home

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