In a weeks time I’ve gone from doing my first thorough search for a new place to live, to interviewing at one place, to securing the housing. A week to the day from looking at the place I moved in, which brings this harried search to lasting a grand total of eleven days—under 2 weeks. In that amount og time I have learned the following:
1) Be nice to your friends and maybe they’ll help you look for a place to live.
2) All I own are clothes and books.
3) Except for the cut out art and pictures I hung on my walls.
4) Never hang anything with photo corners.
5) Never hang anything with packaging tape.
6) Friends are here to keep you humble and to remind you never to hang anything with photo corners or packaging tape.
7) God will provide a place to live (through Sue, Der, and Wilbur).
8) God will provide a bed, table, and chairs (through the Taylors).
9) God will provide a nice white lamp (through the Grants).
10) God will provide…and when He does…
11) Be nice to your friends and maybe they’ll help you move.
All of this has been shown through the kind graces of kingdom saints. But there comes the time when I’m left with all this stuff, in boxes, in an unfamiliar place and an overwhelming apprehension floods over me. So I pulled out the God-provided (through Mrs. Tan) bread roll and decided to bake a little bread. There’s nothing that cures dread like some good, focused productivity, and we all know that the best kind of productivity is centered around food!
The bread is done. The search begins for something to cut it with. Thought process:
1) Drat! Everything is packed!
2) No, my forks, spoons, and butter knife are still at the other place.
3) A butter knife is no good any way.
4) I have nothing to cut this yummy chicken-stuffed bread with.
5) Key chain pocket knife?
6) SWISS ARMY KNIFE!
I knew I had seen it in one of the open boxes…some where. Scramble. No luck. Found it! (sigh) Ahhh. The memories flooded in…every where this faithful knife has been with me…AAAHH! Quick, SOAP—need anti-bacterial soap! IT'S BOXED UP!!
Thought: “I’m gunna die from putrefied-10-year-encrusted fish gut bacteria or something!”
But as I was rinsing the knife under extremely hot water, wiping it thoroughly with the one towel I could find, I was thinking about all the places I’ve been, all the memories a simple little tool from Switzerland can evoke, and all the apprehension of newness and unfamiliarity melted away.
I have been through this before and each time I am reminded of the greatest gifts God gives through the simple graces of His kind saints and the small comforts of a ready Swiss Army knife. And when I ate that ruggedly sliced chicken-stuffed bread my thought was: