Wednesday, September 7, 4:30 AM. Brewer.

I think Amy just now came to bed as I woke up. She’s been having trouble sleeping lately.

Today is the big move. We actually got most of the stuff moved over yesterday and tonight we’ll sleep in the new house.

Frankly I can’t wait. It feels like Christmas come early. I feel like it’s going to be a new leaf for our family, a new chapter.

This whole experience has been rough for all of us. It was terrifying at first and it’s still bizarre and unnerving. I don’t think it’ll ever stop feeling that way. But it’s also brought us together in many ways. We work together, play together, eat together far beyond what we ever did before. I feel like I’m beginning to know my kids like I never have. I know how Garrett reacts when he whacks his thumb with a hammer—with remarkable self-control, actually. You don’t learn that kind of thing when the only place his thumbs go is onto game controllers. I know the sensitive care for others, but also the anxieties, that Claire will only talk about after three hours together cleaning a barn. I know what Trevor can accomplish with 50,000 Legos and weeks of time with no school: a whole city populated with cars, planes, trains, pedestrians, and monsters. These are precious times. I don’t like how they came to us, but I’m thankful for what they’re doing for our relationships.

It’s changing me too. I like coaching. I like basketball. I like science. But after twenty years of coaching and teaching, of course it was becoming monotonous. It’s long hours, and after a while they no longer feel so worth it. The games, the teams were beginning to run together, and they deserve better than that from me. So I was already needing a change.

Boy did I get one. Suddenly, I have to think, work, lead in order to survive. I enjoy my days. I can’t wait to get out of bed in the morning. At night I’m already thinking about all the things I’ll do tomorrow.

I hate to say this when so many people are gone, but I’ve never felt more alive.

I get that Amy has really struggled. And our marriage…well, it’s been up and down lately. I think moving to the farm is going to change all that. It will be healthy for us—for Amy—to drive our heels into the ground, to gaze forward, to step boldly toward wherever God is taking us. We have a chance to make new patterns at the new house, new traditions, quality time together, quality time apart, to build a life for ourselves that is physically, spiritually, and relationally healthy like we never could’ve done in our old lives.

I’m going to suggest that we all sleep in sleeping bags on the living room floor tonight. That just sounds fun to me. I also think it’ll help ease us into a new place.