Out of Arizona



One of these days I may write a novel. Or maybe just a meditation book with photos from our time here and reflections. One of my favorite photos is this one of the rainbow, taken from our backyard. I have photos of sunsets and ground squirrels and monsoon rains. All striking, the beauty of this place. Regardless I'll call it "Out of Arizona." It will begin something like:

"I once lived in a house in the mountains of Arizona, amongst pecan orchards, swirling dragonfly's and flitting hummingbirds.The days were dry, sunny, and sometimes scorching hot. An occasional life-giving rain became a sign of hope in an otherwise parched place"

As my husband and I prepare to drive out of here on Thursday we count our losses: income, home, car (yes, still waiting to see if Volkswagen will fix our Passat), furniture that won't fit in the truck that we had to load ourselves and now, will drive ourselves. We will leave one child here, going to school and living with family friends, until our lives stabilize. It's hard to leave him behind, but we all agree it's the right thing. We will miss the wildlife and the view out our back yard. I'll miss waking up to the sun rising over the mountains, which I can see through the window near my bed.

We head into an unknown future. Hoping for hope.

My dream the other night: I was trying to get to an interview. I walked over precipices and hills, down stairs, and into a crossway that suddenly became flooded with rushing water. To cross over from one side to another I had to surf on this boomerang shaped board. Of course the board tipped as the rushing water hit it and I fell in. I walked out of the water thinking, "I will just have to go to this interview soaking wet and hope for the best."

Rising up from this parched and prickly place I go off baptized in waters that can heal or drown. Only time will tell which it will be for me.

Comments

Know that prayers travel with you as you journey north. Prayers for your son who will stay in Arizona and prayers for continued peace among the many transitions.
altar ego said…
That sure sounds like a dream of survival to me. I am put in mind of Romans 5:3-5, which speaks of endurance (among other things) and hope. I live on a spiritual diet of hope. Without it, well, I'd rather not even think about that!

When I left Sewanee to move to where I am now I experienced losses, too. I wanted to leave, needed to leave, but there were things about my life there that I knew I would miss. Knowing it at the season of departure made it possible for me to pack those thanksgivings along with my belongings. I expect you will find the same true for you.

Blessings as you go, and for all that awaits.
Sherry said…
I have been through such transitions myself, and I can sense your feelings I think. Part relief, part regret, part worry, part peace. I have great hope that prayers will lead to a good outcome. I surely believe it. May your trip be safe. Like childbirth, the pain is forgotten in the light of a new life.
Jan said…
Prayers. Love. Hard times; I'm sorry.
revhipchick said…
prayers and loving thoughts flowing for and to you.
Lori said…
Prayers and blessings and hugs and love to you for all good things to come!
Unknown said…
Love and prayers for you on the journey.
AutumnJoy said…
Travel safely, and know you are accompanied by the thoughts, prayers and best wishes of many, one mile at a time - certainly mine.
P-Squared said…
*sigh* We really are leading parallel lives at the moment. I left The Boy in the former village to go to school, too. Have to pack and load and drive--with no help. No tears from the congregation...in fact someone asked me on Sunday, "When ARE you leaving?"

Prayers for this new journey into hope. I hope for you--and for me, too. May the One who is our hope stay steadfast in these days.
zorra said…
I have a sense of you being carried on a river of prayer. Falling into that river will be OK.
Remembering y'all as you travel across the country.
Anonymous said…
Joining in prayer with the other, for safe travel, and that the rushing water will bring renewal and hope.
Diane M. Roth said…
praying for you. and wondering where I will be able to visit you again someday!

we'll be in AZ visiting my sister in about a week, and I'll miss you then.
Ann said…
Being in the river, going with the flow, is an important discernment image for me. I hope it says good things about getting in and getting wet!
Oh, what a dream. I'm wishing you many blessings in this transition.

Popular posts from this blog

The Bleeding-heart: a poem by Mary Oliver

A Funeral Sermon: Healed by Love

Luke: A Mary Oliver Poem