Black Hawk Upside Down

At long last, Kristin and I are bona fide Rockford residents, happily dwelling in our little corner of the demilitarized zone we now call home. With the help of a few good men we relocated all of our earthly possessions in an operation that would make Desert Storm blush. In my naivete I didn’t anticipate the sheer scale of the moving adventure, so I’m extremely grateful for helping hands who were patient with my lack of… well, everything, really! Henry and Charis were indispensable in hauling off the first trailer load in the wee hours of the morning. Try as I might, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the sickening feeling of sweaty hands grabbing my ankles and awakening me from slumber with the words, “It’s time.” Recognizing in my half awake stupor that it was Henry and not a wraith was not tremendously reassuring in that frightful moment, but the adrenaline served us well as we proceeded to load all of our furniture through the ridiculously proportioned hallways of our former apartment.

John, Jim, Andrew, Jeremy and Henry assumed the responsibility for unloading the first trailer load into the new house after a Life Group leaders meeting (hence the crack of dawn timing for the loading task Henry and I had undertaken) whilst Shannon, Chase and I took another trailer back up to Wisconsin where Kristin was slaving away cleaning up our old abode. My first sight of our remaining belongings she had gathered into the living room made me realize that we had about seven tons of swag more than I had ever thought we possessed. Torching all of it crossed my mind, but implicit liabilities associated with that course of action compelled me to abandon it as a viable option (there was no way we were going to get our security deposit back if I burned the building down, alas).

Luckily, Shannon’s the Man (or one of them) and seemingly created cubic feet of space in his truck ex nihilo and we managed to get every last remnant of junk (er, precious cargo). Kristin’s dad made a visit with a dolly to aid in the loading process and ended up packing more than a few items in his car and making a whirlwind voyage south in our convoy. After unloading that most random of assortments, we hit the road yet again to be in time for the inspection, followed by Joel’s sister’s graduation party in Milton, after which we committed the rest of the night to sterilizing the apartment.

Returning to Rockford around 10:30 I was utterly spent and eagerly longed for some hay to hit; unfortunately, the hay had to be assembled first. With everything finally out of the way, I endeavored to do nothing but saw enough logs to put the Pacific Northwest to shame. The creaking sound in the kitchen persuaded me otherwise. I froze and attuned my sensory input to the widest bandwidth possible to discern whether or not an intruder was inside our house. Kristin was dead asleep. As the man of the house by default, I assumed sentry duty the rest of the night, patrolling territory stretching from the living room to the kitchen and back to our bedroom, focusing the full power of my keen Native American listening skills. It’s pretty sensitive… perhaps too much so. But you’ll thank me when I intuitively feel an insidious band of ninjas lurking outside your dining room. Or wherever. Ninjas can get into the craziest places.

Well, there were no insidious ninja bands forcing their entry that night. Or, there were, and they were successfully intimidated by my vigilance. I like to think it was the latter, but when the morning sun fired its deadly darts at an hour when no one anywhere should be awake, I was pretty destroyed. On the whole, however, I’d say it was worth the level up I’d received overnight- Level 3 Guardian, people! And only at the cost of a couple pretty severe nodding off episodes the following day!

So here we are, established in the midst of our church family and its environs. Life is good, and God is even better. Get ready, Rockford!

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