Jim and I went to the Girdwood house for the final time Saturday. We finished cleaning (such treasures behind and underneath the refrigerator!), packed up the last odds and ends things like cleaners and hardware and random toy pieces and smaller containers, cried a little (okay, that was just me), walked the new owner through the house and turned over our keys.
This moving process has taken forever. Truly. And as long as we had a key to a house in Girdwood, our move to Seward wasn't quite complete. Now it is. We still have to sign the closing documents on the house sometime soon, but for all intents and purposes, we are no longer Girdwoodians. (although in my heart, I know a piece of me will always be one)
And all of this final house stuff comes just in time for me to immerse myself in a new job, watch our two olders nervously anticipate starting their sophomore year at a very different type of high school, help our two youngers excitedly pack up their shiny new backpacks for their foray into a new elementary school and contemplate what exactly it will be like when Samuel leaves the nest for UAA this coming weekend.
Whole lotta changin' going on.
As we build our life here in Seward together (and Samuel will join in whenever he's home), there will be echoes of our time in Girdwood that will remind us of what we left behind to come here. We had a remarkably blessed time living in Girdwood, sinking our roots gradually, and making them deep and wide. And the very center of all of that sinking and growing was our faith and our hope in our loving God. We focused our life around the church and what service we could do while we lived in that community. He's here, too, and I can't wait to see what He has in store for us.