At Peace

I have been worrying and fussing and thinking and planning and so damned impatient lately.

I was looking online at the Dexter webpage. I want my cows but can't get them yet; reading the info and learning from folks is keeping me in the loop. It's calving season, and they talk about how they don't have to 'pull' the calves; Dexters apparently drop their calves like puppies or kittens! But who is breeding, who will be selling, how can I get a bred cow or three - all important questions. I know I'll probably have to wait til the show in IA in June, but still, it makes me crazy waiting. Looking at their comments keeps me sane.

Then I was looking online this morning at the hatchery where I plan on buying my chicks. I've been looking at it for months now; clicking on the descriptions and pictures, debating on number, type, and size. Since I plan on butchring the cockerels (most of them) early on, I am debating how many chickens I'll have left, how big the coop will have to be, how big the run will have to be. So many things to think about. Will my neighbors fuss about the rooster crowing? Will Dwayne have the chick starter I need? How long will I have to keep the chicks in the brooder in the basement? What will the weather do? How long will I have before I have to build the coop and run?

My neighbor down the street has his own construction company. I'll probably ask him to build the greenhouse; he has a tiny front end loader and is usually pretty busy, but still takes his kids out on the loader on the weekends, teaching them to drive it. To put the greenhouse in the ground for the size I want will take more effort and more equipment than we can do. Which I knew of course.

I am anxious and thinking and plotting and planning, hoping Tammy's potential buyer starts the paperwork today on the house. I was sitting here, aggravating myself with costs and expenditures and worries, when suddenly a voice in my head said simply, "Don't worry so much. I am looking out for you." It was so strange - and suddenly I felt as though, yes, there was Someone looking out for me, watching over me.

Sometimes I forget why I moved here. There were a lot of factors involved, but always, in my rushing around, my aggravation, I knew - knew! - that I was supposed to move, I was supposed to come HERE, that I was directed to this place. When I first saw it, it was like an arrow in my heart, like Brigham Young standing over Salt Lake and saying "This is the place". All of the other places I was going to look at seemed to dissolve away. I have a purpose for being here. I don't know what it is, yet. But there is a reason I was sent here. Just like I was sent to Hardeeville to help Rodney - and I didn't even know it at the time, didn't know him, didn't know the area. But I was sent there as surely as I was sent here. It was only later that I discovered why. And then when it started to fall apart, when Rodney lost his way and fell apart, my father came to me and told me - not in a dream, but as a real person, his usual angry and outspoken self, asking me what the HELL I thought I was doing, that I had done all I could there, that my purpose was fulfilled and I could not help there any more, and I was wasting TIME. That changes were coming and I had to change too. I hated hearing that, but Dad was always right. I know people reading this might think I'm crazy, and maybe I am. But I saw Dad for four hours, as clearly as I see this keyboard and screen, standing on that balcony of my room at the Hilton Head motel, backlit by a raging thunderstorm. I remember crying and arguing with him when he told me there was no more hope there for us or for me; that changes were coming - bad changes - and I needed to get out of there. I packed and went home shaking early the next morning, and told Mike all about it. And it was that night I knew that that was not my purpose anymore, that things had changed - and I would be at peace only when I changed with them.

For some inexplicable reason, this is now my purpose and my life. For some unknown reason, I feel as though I have paid my dues, have done what I was supposed to, have moved on to further my life, my knowledge, my experiences. Everything will work out, as long as I do what I am supposed to, what I feel in my heart is right. Never mind the screaming panic and hysteria that springs up sometimes late at night, the regrets, the tearful sadness of leaving some people I really and truly loved, the "maybe, if I'd done THIS" feelings. All is for naught. I am supposed to be here. And I will be cared for. By Dad, God, or some unknown being, who knows? I am safe.