Jon and I never imagined we would fall in love with Texas and SO many wonderful Texans. But we did. And that makes the leaving bittersweet.
We continue to have open hands to God in the matter. "Lord, root us or move us, we just want to be obedient to you." And so, we are being blown northly.
Today the laundry lady visited me and updated me on her husband. He is dying from an aggressive and returned cancer. He is the maintenance man in the hotel and they met at another hotel that he worked for. It was a Hallmark kind of romance of housekeeper falls in love with the maintenance man kind of story. They have been together over a decade and I have only guessed their ages, but I am thinking a young 60ish range. All they really have is each other.
"God is really testing me, Chelsea." The laundry lady told me. She is taking the bus to the hospital to spend the night with her husband this evening. How do you respond to that kind of pain? I am brand new married and cozied up on my couch with homework for my new job and already planning dinner in my mind for my hubster who is coming home. I hugged her. Sometimes words just don't cut it.
We talked about things we can control and things we can't. And what we do with the things we can't control. "You are right," she told me, "only God can handle holding all of this."
It is strange how the lives of our hotel 'neighbors' have been woven into the fabric or our experience in the few short months we were here.
Before Jon and I were married, the most I had spent in a hotel was, maybe, a week. I have learned all kinds of interesting things about people who do extended stay living. There is a couple from California who have been living here for 2 years. I learned this because our gym time often coincides. Their Christmas tree twinkles from outside their window when we walk on that side of the hotel. I can't imagine living in a hotel for 2 years. But I didn't imagine living in a hotel for 2 months. And here we are.
Mostly, like my handsome husband, the 'neighbors' are here on extended business. One night, a large portion of a delayed plane filled up the hotel. Unlike our last hotel, the walls are not so soundproof here and the child play and thundering footsteps was fun.. for one night anyways. But the housekeepers were running around the next day frazzled and sweating and swearing in Spanish.
It is still strange having a daily knock on the door. "Housekeeping!" But now that we are buddies, I have learned how to make a professional hotel bed and have an entirely new appreciation for the in's and out's of hotel machinery. Housekeepers have a birds eye view to the most strange and I have been regaled with stories about hotel ghosts and odd guests who steal toilet paper and store them in places that the housekeepers can clearly see them. They giggle over some stories and bemoan others. On the top floor a woman died and wasn't found for quite a few days. We all shudder together at the thought.
The old saying, "if walls could speak," has particular weight in the highly trafficked rooms of a hotel.
Soon, the friendly young married couple from room #102 will be a another one of those stories, and perhaps eventually only remembered by the walls.
But there is One who REALLY sees all. And, He doesn't forget us. And at this moment, as I consider all the unknowns of the the big horizon and the maintenance man in the hospital, I am comforted by this thought. My life and the lives around me are not disjointedly zooming through time and accidentally crossing paths without any meaning or purpose. Even though I don't see the whole tapestry, I am comforted by the knowledge that the threads are being woven together with purpose and eternal design by a loving Father.
I didn't mean to chase these thoughts down any strange philosophical or theological tunnels. Goodbyes and change often stir up this line of thinking for me. But as this third-culture-kid with all kinds of goodbye baggage has learned, processing the hard thoughts through is always worth it. Because they lead me back to Jesus. No Jesus juking here. Just straight up thankful to be adventuring after the One who promises that we will never have to say goodbye to Him.
Before Jon and I were married, the most I had spent in a hotel was, maybe, a week. I have learned all kinds of interesting things about people who do extended stay living. There is a couple from California who have been living here for 2 years. I learned this because our gym time often coincides. Their Christmas tree twinkles from outside their window when we walk on that side of the hotel. I can't imagine living in a hotel for 2 years. But I didn't imagine living in a hotel for 2 months. And here we are.
Mostly, like my handsome husband, the 'neighbors' are here on extended business. One night, a large portion of a delayed plane filled up the hotel. Unlike our last hotel, the walls are not so soundproof here and the child play and thundering footsteps was fun.. for one night anyways. But the housekeepers were running around the next day frazzled and sweating and swearing in Spanish.
It is still strange having a daily knock on the door. "Housekeeping!" But now that we are buddies, I have learned how to make a professional hotel bed and have an entirely new appreciation for the in's and out's of hotel machinery. Housekeepers have a birds eye view to the most strange and I have been regaled with stories about hotel ghosts and odd guests who steal toilet paper and store them in places that the housekeepers can clearly see them. They giggle over some stories and bemoan others. On the top floor a woman died and wasn't found for quite a few days. We all shudder together at the thought.
The old saying, "if walls could speak," has particular weight in the highly trafficked rooms of a hotel.
Soon, the friendly young married couple from room #102 will be a another one of those stories, and perhaps eventually only remembered by the walls.
But there is One who REALLY sees all. And, He doesn't forget us. And at this moment, as I consider all the unknowns of the the big horizon and the maintenance man in the hospital, I am comforted by this thought. My life and the lives around me are not disjointedly zooming through time and accidentally crossing paths without any meaning or purpose. Even though I don't see the whole tapestry, I am comforted by the knowledge that the threads are being woven together with purpose and eternal design by a loving Father.
I didn't mean to chase these thoughts down any strange philosophical or theological tunnels. Goodbyes and change often stir up this line of thinking for me. But as this third-culture-kid with all kinds of goodbye baggage has learned, processing the hard thoughts through is always worth it. Because they lead me back to Jesus. No Jesus juking here. Just straight up thankful to be adventuring after the One who promises that we will never have to say goodbye to Him.
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