When we first moved to Nevada almost 7 years ago, I was struck by the stark beauty. “Purple mountains majesty” are really a thing. I remember standing in the cold, 14 degrees to be exact, watching our little kiddos at the time, sled down a sand hill covered in snow. Surrounded by high desert, lungs and toes objecting to the cold, I couldn’t help but think of the Israelites as they left Egypt.
(Some of you may not know this but I’m a bit of a Bible geek. Hang in there. I promise there’s a point.)
The Israelites leave Egypt. This nation within a nation, leave the only home they have known for generations. They end up in the desert, surrounded now by the majesty of creation. No doubt a huge contrast to the opulence and grandeur that they had grown accustomed to in Egypt. Confronted now with the unmistakable magnificence of the ordinary, they began a journey. Their journey was to last 40 years and I have always found that exhaustive and oddly specific. While I cannot speak still to the length, perhaps I am beginning to understand the reason. Maybe it wasn’t enough for them just to see something different. Maybe they needed to be pulled far outside their comfort zone. A reboot sort of.
We left our home in Nevada on July 31. The hospitality and graciousness of friends and family has been overwhelming and so greatly appreciated. But we have been nomads. We’ve sold cars and belongings, whittling our existence down to 12 suitcases, a rental car, two dogs, and a hope of someday having some space to call our own again. Three weeks of being stretched outside our comfort zone. And as I think of the Israelites wandering for 40 years, it makes a bit more sense. If we had jumped straight from Nevada house to London house, there would inevitably be a fair bit of comparing. Well in Nevada we had…It would be human nature to want to go back to the Nevada house. The familiar. Our home. But now, perhaps we are all so tired of traveling, the greater response may simply be gratitude. Hearts that are thankful to have space again, a place to call home, a chance to settle. A reboot sort of.
The house hunt begins tomorrow. An archaic boots on the ground approach. You know how you walk through towns you may be stopping over in and there always seems to be the reality agent on main street with houses taped to the window? I’m hoping there’s a UK equivalent. And yes, we know about the internet. But it’s a house we are picking. A neighborhood, a community. Boots on the ground seems appropriate. (And at this point, a chance to get out of the tiny hotel room.)
At this point, I’m praying our nomadic journey is nearly done. In search of 3 bedroom home, 2 baths (we have teenage daughters), pet friendly, and some furniture would be amazing!
The hunt begins tomorrow.
Have you had the Manna yet? I hear it’s great for a day or two. Believing and praying for the best outcome. Two Loo’s it shall be.❤
Ironically, we wish we had manna. We are all wide awake at 3 am and starving!
Please keep writing because I want to live vicariously through your journey! We love you guys!!!!!
I will certainly try! And we love you guys too!
Praying for the perfect place to call home!
Well said Rebecca, I believe gratitude to a healthy way to embrace change. And if the path needed to generate it is rocky, so be it!