We live off a gravel road that bears
little, if any, resemblance to the wide, well graded, gravel roads of
Iowa. The neighbor’s sign, “Slow,
Children at Play” seems oddly unnecessary due to nature’s own speed bumps. Orange citrus trees line the road on
one side and a handful of friendly neighbors on the other.
The
five-acre property is bordered with strong new fencing. It does little to keep the determined
turtle away that dutifully travels back and forth across the front lawn, (we
named him Jonah), or the rabbits from nibbling off the bit of garden we’ve
started. Ian likes to dream of
larger animals that the sturdy fence might be able to hold within it’s confines,
animals of the ruminant kind.
Our
little home faces south while the north side of the property is lined with two
greenhouses, two shade houses and the outline of a structure meant to house an
aquaponics system some day.
Several sheds and an outhouse with a flushable toilet are scattered over
the rest of the area.
The
greenhouses are full of orchids waiting to be weeded and tended. I hope to spend any free time I have
pulling weeds there, and then working on repotting and salvaging the much-neglected
plants.
Our
little home on wheels has been such a blessing. Although not made to live in for any great length of time,
it has been more than suiting our daily needs.
On
Sundays we travel the one and a half hour drive to Sarasota to be with other conservative
Anabaptists. While we’ve been made
to feel welcome in these churches, there is nothing like our little church in Iowa
and the tug it has on our hearts.
In
all our childhood dreams, neither of us ever imagined we’d someday find
ourselves living in Florida with its growing season almost as long as the year
and its sand they call soil. How
is it that we find ourselves living in a land of so much sunshine and cattle
and biting ants?
So many questions flood our minds
daily. Questions talked about,
questions muttered and whispered and questions so savage and tender they seem
only safe to keep locked in the confines of the mind and heart. Questions of doubt, questions of hope,
questions driven by fear, questions bolstered by experience and faith. Who knew this would be our lot in life? Who knew some day we’d need courage to
laugh because our hearts only felt strong enough to sigh?
In March of 2015, Ian and I spent
some time in Florida. During that
short time, we noticed a drastic difference in Ian’s abilities and energy
level. In the evenings when it
grew cooler, I saw Ian’s normal self, tired, drained and not able to do
much. However, when he was warm or
even hot during the day, he could go for short walks, and didn’t have to wear
as many layers of clothes. He stopped
using his cane entirely for the first time in almost two years. It was all so happy and also a bit
surreal.
While
in Florida, Ian visited with several men from two of the Mennonite churches who
were on the board of a mission in Lake Placid called Tower of Hope. Taking from their vision:
“Tower
of Hope had been ministering to the homeless in Sarasota for a few years. Every Monday night we had been feeding
60-100 folks, simple meals and ministering to them in a short Bible Reading and
singing. We also provided blankets
and clothing as donations were received.
Due to the city’s recommendations, we have discontinued feeding the
homeless and have switched our focus to providing assistance with the goal to
help them become self-sufficient.
Our
plan is to create a Christian Rehabilitation Camp for struggling men. Here we will minister to their spiritual
needs, help them break free from bondage and addictions, and teach them
practical life skills that will aid them as they face their future.
At the Camp, we will be living and working with them growing
produce and other plants and helping them with various building projects for
the Camp.”
Two
green houses full of orchids came with the acreage when the property was
purchased. Many of them have been
sold, but there are still many more that need cleaned up and repotted before
they could become saleable.
Going back to IA at the end of our
vacation in March was a blow to both of us but especially to Ian
emotionally. It was hard for him
to sit again when he knew he’d be able to walk and stand and maybe even work if
he was warmer. That spring and
into the summer we dreamed and cried and prayed. What were we to do?
What was God’s plan in all of this? How do we go on living carrying around these questions like
an open wound?
Ever since Ian has been ill we’ve
known that in warmth, he seems to do better. We kept asking ourselves why God had us in this place and in
this spot and if Ian’s illness was a way for God to point us in a different
direction?
As the summer of 2015 progressed,
Ian was able to begin driving truck again. It felt like a miracle that he could drive and work! He was hauling box trailers on several
routes, some to the East and a few South and North of IA. The biggest down side with this type of
hauling was that Ian was often gone up to a week at a time. We talked about me possibly joining
him, or getting my CDL and driving with him but several factors made this seem
impractical for us.
One day late in autumn, our
landlord stopped in and gave notice that we would need to be out of the house
by July of 2016. It began to feel
like God was making decisions for us.
As the mild autumn and winter wore
on, we knew that any day it would be too cold for Ian to keep working. God had given him grace to sit through
the two previous winters.
Emotionally, he wasn’t sure if he could do it yet another winter knowing
he would be able to work and provide for us in a warmer climate.
It’s a beautiful gift, this
God-given desire for a man to want to provide for his family. And since Ian has gained a little of
his strength back, with it has come this desire again.
Around
Thanksgiving time, we told the families I was babysitting for that January 2016
would be my last month. I was
beginning to feel worn out with caring for four children while Ian was gone for
days at a time. It felt like a
huge step of faith to make this decision financially, but with so many unknowns
on the horizon this seemed the best thing to do.
Around
that same time Ian made a phone call to the president on the board of the Tower
of Hope mission asking if they were still looking for someone to stay on the
property to be grounds keeper. The
nearest board member is over an hour from the property and because of the
distance, things were falling into neglect. They responded that yes, indeed we would be more than
welcome to come. Ian told them
that we would let them know our decision the beginning of the year. We were a little startled at how
quickly they had said yes to us coming, since we had only met them once, but we
sensed God’s presence in their answer.
In December, the day before we were
to leave for PA for several weeks, we received a Christmas letter in the mail
with a personal message attached from Mary Sue Moss. In her letter she told the story of how Jerry, her husband, had
spent time researching and eventually purchasing an old, classic, 1976 GMC
motor home. They were hoping to be
able to use it to travel to see family and the extra space would make the
travel easier with his dialysis equipment. After they purchased the motor home, Jerry’s health
unexpectedly declined. That June,
Jerry went home to be with Jesus and they were never able to use the motor home
together as they had dreamed of doing.
At the end of Mary Sue’s note, she asked if we could possibly use it as
a home away from home somewhere in the South. If we would accept, she would like to gift the motor home to
us.
Later,
in a conversation with Mary Sue, we learned that she hadn’t known we were
considering moving south for a time.
She had just felt that maybe, because Ian seemed to do better in the
warm, this could be a way for us to travel south.
In
just a few short weeks the doors were opened for us to have a place to stay in
Florida and a home to live in while we were there. Now we just had to make the decision to go to Florida or to
try to find a way to stay in Iowa.
The
questions, “Do we go?” “How do we stay?” and the many things relating to them
have absorbed most of our thoughts and prayers.
Decisions like this change our tomorrows.
Decisions like this impact generations.
We shared our story and listened and talked with our
families and church community. We feel like we’re abandoning our little
church. Like we’re choosing
another way. A way far away from
them. We love them deeply and we feel
keenly the loss of even a few months apart.
We
knew full well that making the decision to go to Florida for several months
could lead to a different future.
A future we weren’t sure we wanted.
We chose to move to Florida for
four months, from February to May, to see how the climate change would affect
Ian.
The month of January found us
sorting through stuff, packing boxes and eventually moving out of what had been
our home for three and a half years.
We loaded most of our things into a semi-storage trailer and parked
it. The rest of the things we
needed we packed into our motor home for Florida.
On February the 1st Reuben and
Christy Fall travelled with us to Florida and helped us settle into our new
home. We fixed leaks, built a
shower and made a pallet patio around the motor home.
We’ve been in Lake Placid now for
over a month. I work around the
house and property, and Ian is driving truck daily. The warm weather is a blessing. If we were in Iowa right now, he would be sitting in a chair
in front of a heater with the thermostat turned up to 90* longing to work
again.
We continue to talk and pray and
ask. Life doesn’t look or speak
the words we thought it would. Life doesn’t pave the track we hoped and dreamed, but God
has proved Himself faithful and we rest in this!
