Long View

The anticipation can be hard to bear. 

At least someone's already home on the bus, even if it's not us.

We are a ways out from moving into our skoolie home and striking out to parts unfamiliar. Like, probably two years out. And that's tough to bear some days.

We've got good friends here. Good family. We're becoming more and more a part of a community where we are now, and the thought of leaving that behind is bittersweet. So why can't I wait to go?

Because the future looks bright. Because we're moving forward on a dream we've had since we got engaged and had our eyes opened to the wide world of homesteading, one step at a time. Because there are so many things I want to start doing, and I want to do them now.

Exercise Your Patience, Please.

How many times do I say this to my daughters? Because it is just as hard for them to do as it is for me, apparently. Now, their wants are a little more attainable (...Sometimes. Sorry girls, Disney World is nowhere in our near future.), but the premise is the same. We sometimes just need to wait, and have patience, for the things we want to come to be.

I have so much to do to fill my time, even beyond the normal day-to-day chores, like keeping us fed and reasonably clean. I have a house full of things that need new homes, even if that home is the garbage dump. I have a small wealth of bottles and jars, just waiting to be turned into crafts that I can sell to raise money to finance this venture. I can go on Mechanical Turk to do a few jobs to raise a couple extra dollars to ease the burden on Nathaniel's shoulders. I can begin to practice gardening, or canning, or any other chore that we will ostensibly take on for ourselves in the not-too-distant future. I can work on my little soap business, even if that just means sitting at the computer and updating my website. I can blog about the work we've done on the bus, even if it's only for my own benefit, to remind me that Nate's made so much progress already.

But I have a nasty habit of looking at all that needs to be done, and simply throwing up my hands, saying, "Oh, I just can't wait until we're past all this and onto the next phase of our lives!"

Yes, Colleen, but not without some hard work to get there.

Even if that hard work is just another form of being patient. By doing those things that need to be done. By accepting the help offered from some of the most awesome ladies on the planet. By practicing self-sufficiency now, even a little bit at a time, because it will be hard to go from zero to sixty once we're out of here and living in the bus.

So while it may seem silly to write this, because I'm sitting still and not "doing anything," I have to remind myself that this blog is a part of the plan. To share where our heads are as we transition, and to hopefully inspire other people to make the changes they've desired for their families*. Maybe even to motivate myself, and to remember that I am just as important a cog in this family machine as my husband, even though there's not much I can do to help on the bus at the moment (For what it's worth, he's always gone out of his way to tell me how important I am to our family. The problem lies inside my own skull, not his). I can do the little things here at home that add up to one big effort to move us past this sometimes unsatisfying season in our lives.

Someday, this will all be a memory, and we'll be out in the world, making our own living by the sweat of our own brows, actively providing for ourselves. Our kids will be living the life we've always hoped to provide for them; a life on a small farm, out in nature, living in a home we built with our own hands. We will be in a new place, living a very different life from the life we're living now.

But for today, I need to be grateful. Grateful for my husband, who works so very hard to do the best he can for me and our girls. Grateful for our children, who delight me every day and inspire me to be a better person, to provide a good example of how to live intentionally and lovingly. Grateful for our extended families, who love our little family unit and desire the best for us, even if they will be sad to see us move away. Grateful for our community of friends, who have become such an integral part of our lives. And above all, grateful for a God who loves us and meets us where we are, who has provided for us so amazingly every single day, and who encourages us to write our own story even as he walks alongside of us.

Patience is a virtue. I need to remember this every day, even as I look forward with eager anticipation for the future.

* Whoops. This originally said "for our family." Sorry!