Ebenezer Series: A Big Move

Acknowledging God’s magnificent hand in my

otherwise ordinary life

{Spring break is over and I am back, continuing on with my Ebenezer series. For a reminder of what this is all about, you can read the introductory blog here and catch up on all other posts in the series here.}

Mobile Home

At some point, my father made some changes and was no longer working for his friend {my landlord}. The house was still available, so my friend and I remained there, for a little while.

But the day came when my landlord’s wife paid me a visit and, although she was a wonderful lady, I felt a heaviness in my chest when I saw her at my door. She explained that they had hired someone who would be living in the house and that my roommate and I would need to move out. I don’t recall the exact time frame, but I know it was short.

She left, and as soon as I closed the door, I dropped to my knees in that magnificently spacious room and cried out to God. “Oh dear God, what do you want me to do?” I wept, with my hands-covered face in the plush carpeting. I poured my heart out to Him there and I felt his comforting presence. I don’t think I’ll ever forget those moments.

farmhouse kitchen

Feelings of confusion and desperation came and went over the  next couple of weeks, but they didn’t get the best of me. I didn’t want to leave this place, which I had initially resisted with all my might, but I felt reassured that He would provide a way for me, as He had before, and I began to actively wait upon Him.

I broke the news to my roommate, and we each began brainstorming our options.

One night I called my best friend, Kelly. She had gotten married a few months earlier and moved to the southeastern corner of Wisconsin. I had driven the three hours to visit her on more than one occasion and was somewhat familiar with the area. Kelly’s extended family lived in surrounding communities and, along with her, I had visited them many times during my teen years.

As soon as I told Kelly of my predicament, she said, “Laury, you should move down here.” She told me how she didn’t think I’d have any problem finding a job in the area and that she would ask around to see if anyone was looking for a roommate.

In no time, she let me know that there was an elderly lady from their church who lived in a mobile home {in a retirement community} and had extra space that she was willing to rent out. Upon her request, the mobile home association granted her approval to have a young person stay with her, even though all residents were supposed to be over 60 years old. It sounded less than ideal, but for $20 a week, it would do fine until I found something else.

My time in the farmhouse was just under a year. It all seems like a whirlwind now, but without much hesitation, I quit my job at the newspaper and closed up my consignment space. We packed up most everything from that big old farmhouse and stored it at my parents’ home. {Bless their hearts once again}

Ironically, the new guy who was moving in was a high school classmate of mine. He and his wife began storing a few of their belongings in the house before I was scheduled to be out, so it was fun to cross paths with him and catch up a bit.

With many of my clothes, and just a few necessities stuffed into my car, I headed for the other side of the state to meet my new “roommate.”

Her name was Irene.  She was a sweet-spirited and rather spry 80-something year-old who had a love for the Lord that showed in everything she said and did. She was widowed, with no children, and lived with her yappy little dog in this mobile home, left to her years earlier by a man for whom she had been a paid caretaker.

Irene Maxwell

The back bedroom, which became my room, contained the hospital bed that this man had used, complete with wheeled bedside table. Other furnishings included a floor lamp, an old chair, large pictures and mirrors, hanging plants and oodles of filing cabinets and file boxes.

Bed at Irene's

The closet had two fold-out doors and was ¾’s full of old clothes, coats, boxes and a vacuum–with just enough room for me to squeeze in a handful of hanging clothing items.

Bedroom at Irene's

My living space had just been downsized to a rather crowded and oddly furnished 9′ x 10′ room {or so}, —in complete contrast to the 4-bedroom farmhouse from which I had just moved.

I rearranged and did what I could to make the space comfy and my own. Irene had emptied out a couple of filing cabinets and I used them as dressers. I used to joke about not being able to find my clothes–like I had looked under “j” for jeans but then remembered I had filed them under “p” for pants. It was an unusual way to live, but I always knew it would make for a good story someday.

 

Clothing files at Irene's

I had 3 windows in my room which made it bright and sunny. And although it was a bit confining, I had a peace within me and am thankful that I was able to adjust immediately. Life had brought a quick and exciting change, and I felt ready to take it on.

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