Today We Plan for Tomorrow

Tags

family, friends, house, moving, planning, saving

Today we meet with the contractor who will design our new home. Not to be confused with the new home we just moved into.

No, this will be our forever home. This home, to be built on 20 acres we already own, is the reason we chose to downsize, to leave our beautiful cabin by a creek.

February Highlights

Tags

books, camp fradd, family, february, fiction, moving, my darling love, reading, Valentine’s Day

Once again its time to review the month and share the things which stood out most for me. February has flown by, but I’m pretty sure that’s just a combination of stress and old age. Between the doctors’ follow-up visits for Jay and the pressure of the impending move, my hair stylist is going to earn her pay coloring my hair at the end of the month.

My Spirit of Fear

In the spirit of Halloween, let’s discuss fear. Some love to dress up in scary costumes, watch horror movies, or visit haunted corn mazes. While I don’t enjoy the traditional horrifying aspects of Halloween, I certainly don’t live life in a bubble – afraid to experience all this world has to offer.

So which am I? Fearful or Fearless?

The Future Homestead

Shortly after getting back from vacation, I made reference to our latest land acquisition* – a 5 acre lot meant to serve as a building ground for the new Camp FTW. Have since closed on the land, I thought it was past time to share it with my blog-folk.

*Jay totally does NOT see the humor in my cheeky references to our adventures in real estate. For other unacceptable words, see also: empire, procurement, and venture.

Paradise: Maintained

Earlier in the week, I blogged about our new neighbors. The more I’ve prayed about the situation the more I’ve heard the selfishness in my prayer.

My creek.
I need quiet.
My solitude is heavenly.

I’ve read two different authors (one a blogger, another a book I borrowed from the library) recount how their children were called down for being noisy. Hesitantly, I admit that I’ve been that person. Sure, the kids were trespassing at the time, but their laughter carrying into my home took me outside to politely (always) let them know they had crossed over the common area boundary.

You read that right.

I’m the crotchy old fart yelling:

https://www.youtube.com/embed/VJ6uvviKOgI?feature=player_embedded

The book I just finished is called The Nesting Place: It Doesn’t have to be Perfect to be Beautiful, by Myquillyn Smith offers tips on making the most of the home you have now, not the home you desire. Only my perspective requires a bit of a shift.

I have the home I desire, but fear losing it. To foreclosure? To a cross-country move, ripping me from my family and friends? To a third-world country on the mission field. Thankfully, no. Not even close. 

Am I so pampered to think that 1.3 acres isn’t enough for me? But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that. 1 Timothy 6:8 Verse after verse, story after story keep pointing me back to that difficult elusive word: contentment. Not only with what I already have, but whatever will come.

The other night, Jay and I were playing basketball in the common area parking lot. A truck passed the community pool and the playground and went past our private property sign (we share a driveway with the HOA common area.) I stopped playing and gave them the stink eye, but don’t worry, they were far enough away not to see.

A bit later, Jay and I headed back toward our house and I made a comment about their dog. We exchanged pleasantries with them, which we hadn’t previously done. “You live there?” the man asked. 

Jay, assuming the guy was asking if the play-set was on our property responded “That’s our house, but this is common area. You’re allowed to play here.” 

“But that’s your house? You live there? That’s really nice.” 

Then his wife spoke up “yeah we thought that was an extra parking area.” Turns out, they didn’t want to park where we were playing basketball and interrupt our game. As I was giving them the stink eye, they were trying to be considerate of us. 

I learned a couple of things from this exchange.: People who don’t know us think we have a sweet house. AND A lot of them don’t suck as badly as I think.

While I envy those I read about on exotic mission fields, I know that’s not God’s call for my life. At least not now. What if I’m called to be a witness here? To love my neighbor, even though its a different person every week. How many people could I reach out to in Jesus’s name, when the cabin next door sleeps 28, and could rent up to 250 nights per year (divided by 4 night stays = 60 renter groups.)

What if He’s bringing the mission field to me?
God-forbid I respond by putting up a No Trespassing sign.

Paradise: Upset

Last week, I referenced big changes coming to Camp FTW. My intention was not to be coy or mysterious, but rather keeping the focus on the subject at hand (in this particular case, gratitude to God for my blessings). Since focus is a daily struggle, I thought I would compose a separate blog post regarding the changes.

This post could also be titled Don’t Know What You’ve Got Until Its {Almost} Gone. Jay and I found out last weekend that the home directly in front of ours has changed hands.

 Cinderella’s Castle (as the HOA refers to it) existed as a vacation home.  Since the day we moved in, we’ve never met the owners. We’ve never even seen them at the place.

A couple of weeks ago, the property began to show signs of life. People stopped by to inspect the pond and surrounding property. Then, work began on the house.

Jay went over on Sunday to introduce himself and be nosey. As of June, the house is available for nightly rental. The peace and quiet I now enjoy, sitting on my front porch listening to the creek, will most likely disappear.

A fresh crop of renters will appear most every week. More than likely they will splash in the creek just feet from my home. As with Sunday, their chatter will penetrate my bedroom door, and I’ll hear them whilst trying to enjoy a peaceful afternoon nap. The peace and tranquility I find in my hammock will be no more.

PS – Yes, I am in that picture – my head is to the right.

Tragic? Hardly
First World Problem? Without a doubt
Something God cares about? Absolutely

I don’t mean to imply that my Abba will fix it for me. I don’t expect a miracle to happen and all-of-a-sudden the creek noises will drown out the sounds of children playing. HOWEVER He has all the hairs on my head numbered. Not one falls to the ground without him knowing. (Ask Jay – not even I can keep up with all the stray fallen hairs around the house).

If you would be so kind as to say a prayer for me, I seek God’s wisdom. Should we stay and strive to love my transient neighbor as Jesus commanded? Should we move, considering this a prompting to turn the cabin into an investment opportunity? 

Somehow (gee thanks Holy Spirit), I doubt my personal urge to get 10+ acres and build a home surrounded by nature and isolation is the direction He wants us to go. Whatever the case, I know He will go with me. Somehow, with each move (this would make 4 in less than 7 years) I’m learning His truth more and more.