So yesterday marked the end of an era in our little family. The blot on our landscape that has been making our neighborhood classier for more than a year has finally gone. The trailer has departed.
It was rather an emotional experience for me to see it go- not a lot of regret, mind you, but a lot of relief and happiness accompanied by much retrospection over the year past.
Last summer was probably the worst summer of my life. I wrote what I could about it here, but there were many other things that happened during those miserably hot months that I wasn’t able to share on a blog. And as I watched that old camper disappear down the road, I felt as if it were taking all the strain of those months with it.
Of course, we aren’t out of the woods yet- the house still has a ways to go and you never know what’s coming next, but when I think back to a year ago, well, you get the picture. The trailer served its purpose as a lifeboat- the thing that kept us afloat during turbulent times and for that we are grateful- and grateful to generous friends who lent it to us freely. Without it, we would not be where we are today. But you better believe we all watched eagerly through the windows as they hooked it up and cheered loudly as it passed out of our lives.
It was an adventure getting it out of our twisty, turny, hilly back yard. And idiot that I am, I planted our little garden way too close to the front of it, so the truck could barely squeeze in there. I was afraid they were going to have to run over all my tomatoes.
I’m trying not to draw too many comparisons from that scar to my own emotional scarring after living a whole year in that tiny place- except to remember that scars heal. Not only that, but scars can serve as reminders of the difficult times that God has brought us through and assurance that he will continue to be faithful no matter what comes.