I stare out the window of our little camper at the snow covered building site, I try to be thankful for how far we’ve come. Dave has spent hours and hours pounding tires and we are almost to the point of needing plumbers and electricians to come stub things in. We didn’t have enough done to get an inspection, so we’ll have to renew it once again, but this is a process. I like to compare it to the pioneers living on the prairie in sod houses. At least I don’t have a dirt floor. (Well I guess the earthship floor is dirt now.)
We purchased a small shed for our water tank and it has really been a lifesaver for the hubby. He doesn’t have to go to town on bad roads to get our water every week. We can make it last for almost three weeks if we’re careful. We open the doors with a southern exposure and warm the small shed and tank up. When it’s really cold Dave starts a small propane heater up for an hour or so and it keeps it warm enough so the water in the tank doesn’t freeze. We’ve had such a mild winter, this is the first snow that hasn’t melted after a few hours.
Everyday I walk my dogs down to either the place we call the point, or down the deer trail to the bottom of the ravine. I am constantly in a state of gratitude for being able to walk on our own land, looking for rabbits, or just enjoying the beauty I’m surrounded by. I thought I was really living in the moment, but once again, I’ve been schooled.
My husband and I recently attended the funeral of a dear friend. She was 83 and her name was Joy. I’ve never met a person so aptly named. She was so happy and laughed at everything. Her joy was muted when she lost her husband of 60+ years a few years ago, but she loved her family and she loved the Lord and eventually her joy returned.
We are very close to her daughter, in fact she worked for us for a time, that’s how we met Joy. If you’ve ever heard the term “fast friends” that would describe Terri and me. We worked together in a mortgage company first, then when we set up our appraisal business, she came to work for us. I love her like a sister.
I sat in the service with tears streaming down my face. Not because of the loss of this precious lady, I know she’s in a better place. I cried for my lost moments. I watched the slideshow of her life with tons of pictures with all her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren and she was always right in the middle of the shot. She certainly lived in the moment. She lived and recorded the moments with her in them. This family now has memories and pictures to invoke those memories any time they want.
I have been reluctant to be in pictures because of how I looked. Whether my hair wasn’t fixed just right, or I needed to shed those pounds, I stepped back and took the pictures instead.
One of my intentions for this year is to live in the moment. I thought I was already close to doing that, but sitting in that service, looking at pictures of someone’s else’s life, I realized I have my head in the moment, but I’m not all in. The pictures may bother me initially, but when it’s all said and done, does that really even matter? Will my grandkids care whether I was plump? Isn’t it more important that I came to their dance recitals and lacrosse games?
The same holds true for this process of building an earthship. We need to plan and move forward, of course, but this isn’t going to happen overnight. We have to find ways to make enough money to fund this, do the work and move forward. I’m struggling with this concept because we live in a world of instant (or almost) gratification. Need a house built? Go get a loan for hundreds of thousands of dollars and it’s done. We aren’t doing that, but on the other hand, when it’s all said and done, we won’t have to make those big mortgage payments either.
Life can be simplified, but be prepared to work hard, be patient and thankful to get there.
Psalm 30:5 “…weeping may remain for the night, but joy comes in the morning.”