Funny Animal

As Sarah and I prepare to move into our first house together, our apartment grows more and more stale and bare.  It's sad for us at times to see our first home slowly fade into boxes.  Additionally, the added task of packing has added to the stress of the season.  Ultimately, however, I've been thankful for God's presence in this time, as I think we're doing pretty good.

At least on the surface.

Although I may seem to be alluding to underlying tensions and destructive behaviors, I'm not.  We're safe.  But I do know that while we feel we're doing great with the task of moving, it is weighing on us heavier than we realize sometimes.  Sarah tells me every morning about the particular dream she had that night about the house--company, decorations, events, etc.  I on the other hand, usually wake up to hear stories, once again from Sarah, about the out loud conversations I was having in my sleep.  They are outrageous to hear about, and nearly as frequent as Sarah's house dreams.

But there's another thermometer we use to gauge the levels of stress in our home.  Our cat Gizmo.

When the cat gets freaky, we realize we might be carrying a little more stress than usual.  Again, we're not necessarily carrying the full weight of the world, but Gizmo is surely telling us there are a couple good-sized rocks in our packs.

So the cat is a little freaky these days.  Nightly sprints, morning sprints, anytime sprints--all around the apartment (no one's chasing her, I promise), lots of loud meows, bushy tails and army crawls arrive at the slightest sounds, and the occasional butterfly stomach sneaks up and causes her to give back her supper.

Poor cat.

But we figure if we can make it, so can she; and if she can, we can.  Here's to funny animals and our reactions to stress.


More to come!


Jason <><