The funeral stuff was a lot; Cassie may do a post getting into the specifics more later, but I’m not going to pressure her to do it if she doesn’t feel up to it. But it’s over now, so things are settling down to… well, not normal, but that’s mostly because normal isn’t a thing anymore?
It’s not just us, either; Cassie’s dad has to figure out what he’s going to do with himself now. He’s been one of his mom’s main caretakers for years now, so now he’s going to have to figure out how to spend his time without her.
Cassie and I aren’t quite sure what the responsible next steps are. We know basically nothing that we’ve done has been “responsible” from an outsider’s perspective, but whatever, you know what I mean. Should we plan on going to Florida sooner rather than later to be sure we’re able to pick some of our things up, or should we assume that we’ll have enough time to get down there whenever? Is it better for us to settle in and find jobs that we could leave on short notice, or would that be a waste of time? If we are doing that, is it better to do that in VA, FL, or CA? Or somewhere else? A friend has offered us a possible place to stay in Hawaii; should we go there and assume that by the time that offer dries up, we’ll have other prospects?
None of this is a stressful question anymore; there was a time not that long ago when it might’ve been, but God has demonstrated over and over again that he’s got even the minute details of this whole drawn-out migration nailed down. It’s not even annoying anymore. It’s just kind of… boring?
Okay, analogy time. Our friends the McFarlands have a cat, Roland. He is the epitome of a scaredy-cat, and hides every time they have company. But eventually, if the company stays long enough, he gets bored hiding, so he just comes out and starts being a normal cat, despite the apparent danger.
That’s how I feel about worrying about the future. It’s gotten boring. Maybe I should be doing a little more of it – maybe some of the danger is real? – but dang, at this point, even if it is, I just don’t care. I’d rather be broke and homeless and made a fool of than spend more time worrying about if I become broke or homeless or made a fool of.
So we’re just kind of killing time, playing each day by ear. I’m aware that we don’t know what to do next, but I just can’t be bothered to worry. Presumably, God will let me know if that attitude is or becomes a problem, but I feel like it’s part of what he’s been working towards all this time.