Even the darkness is the Lord’s. The dark evening of the soul comes about before the dawn. That is how it was with us. It took the uprooting of the tree beforewe could soar. I thought that we would never be planted again. Yet, as I look back on 10 years of purposeful wandering I see that He was always leading us to become a strong oak, with roots as deep as the bitterroot flower of our once home. It was that we needed to be planted by the streams of freedom, drawing from the source of love to be able to live a life apart, devoted and disciplined, demonstrating a rich love for a broken world through our own God-broken lives.
Watching our beautiful little Jersey milk cow being loaded up that day tore a little hole in each of our hearts. She had fed us all, all the little people, sheep, goats, calves, chickens, turkeys, ducks, pigs, dogs...A dream was dying. A new dream was taking form.
The house that we thought would take a year or so to sell sold in several months. It was not like it was something conventional. It was a straw bale house. Who gives a conventional loan to someone buying a straw bale home?
We had to move much faster than we anticipated, lots of late nights spent building a bus, and I do mean building. We cut the top off a 1970 Bluebird bus and built a pitched wood roof, threw an octagonal window in the back, some wood inside, a couple of lofts, some flooring, a kitchen and called it home. We pulled a pop-up camper for a while. I guess that lasted for eight months or so, but popping that thing up and down every three days or so gets really old, really fast. As well as finding that the canvas just does not hold up under extreme weather changes very well. Mold does not make a good travel partner. I can't even remember how many times we remodeled that bus or how many different trailers or vehicles we have driven with it.
Nomads. Wanderers. Wayfarers. Gypsies. Itinerants.
We never set out to do anything extraordinary. We weren't even trying to be different. We needed a change. We had never had a family vacation. We have always functioned on consensus and the one thing that we could all agree on was to sell the house and farm, remodel a bus and travel for a while until we found “the” place.Over ten years later we are in the process of buying a place, along with the rest of our community. Years of study and research on community and co-housing finally coming in to play, but we have no illusions of this being “the” place. There is no place. The world is our place...