Washington Fruition

Meg and I sat shell shocked on the futon in the little apartment in Montpelier. Our brains felt like stale bread being thwacked on a counter top. Both of our eye carried about as much expression as tea platters. The norm of living for the last six months has been non commitment to any plan. Plans, even the rational ones, were as dependable as leaky pipes. They held no water!

Plans that resembled concrete walls were busted apart by excavators of the universe, or gods hand. Throwing it all to the wind is an understatement. We threw it all into a hurricane. We threw it into a tornado. We kept hoping the storm would let up. We kept thinking we saw bright spots. Eventually the storm became the norm and we accepted rain falling straight down as a positive alternative to sideways rain.

Then the storm stopped. We were so accustom to the rain, thunder and lightning that calm skies seemed a bit uncomfortable. We have waited for the storm to start back up. We have been peering out from under out make shift shelter of impermanence, unsure if the sun might actually harm us. As the sun heats up our skin of opportunity we start to feel good, even excited. Our lens of reality has come into focus. Not a bad picture at all! In the bible Job was repaid two fold for his faithfulness to god in the face of suffering. I sure hope the lord counts this spring as payday friday, cause we are ready to clean ourselves up, head to town and party like rock star farmers.