Morbid blog post title, huh? Well, the truth is, all of our days are numbered, but aside from our lifespan, the Hurst family days in The Castle are numbered too. Likely around 40 of them left.
Our landlord put our house on the market back in the summer. Though grossly overpriced and strange indeed, we knew that the Lord could bring someone along any day to purchase this home. And he did! We will be stepping down from royal status and relinquishing the throne to a new family at the end of January.
I always find it difficult to say goodbye to a physical space, however, knowing this earth is not our forever home, I don't want my grief to be disproportionate to the truth. I struggle with that. I had a few moments of grief yesterday as my family enjoyed our backyard in the cool evening. We walked through the whimsical row of loquat trees on our way to Uncle Dave's, (our neighbor), and I thought about the numbered times we will do this in the next month. The kids were swinging, I was crying, and it seemed as every memory I have of this yard was surfacing.
I could go on... and I probably will journal more about my experience here, but for now, I just want to savor my favorite time and place. Almost every morning of the past year I have risen early to start my day here. For whatever reason, God has blessed me with the privilege of such a setting for our time together. I feel so near to Him on this back porch, though I know He is omnipresent. It is in this space he has taught me the importance of Daily Bread. He fills me here to be emptied again.
Reminding me of newness, I have enjoyed every morning sunrise on this lake. And some mornings I've just had to take a picture!
(a particularly messy morning.)