Big Bird leads the way!

It was a Wednesday evening when my roommates and I sat down. We intended to iron out a couple of little issues that have come up, and instead, this conversation came to us talking about vacating our oversized dollhouse, and soon. My reaction was to abruptly scoot away from the table and flee to my room, where I immediately burst into angry tears.

A little dramatic, yes. PMS might have been involved. But so was my innate attachment to this thing we call “home” that I make wherever I stay more than a month. All mixed in with my expectation to stay here until I leave KC or get married, and a deep love and appreciation for my roommates, my room, the house, the neighborhood. It would be pretty safe to say I don’t really want to be anywhere else. These are all things that came out in a nasty, sad, watery mess from me to the Lord as I sat curled up in my green old-man chair next to the windows that look out onto Hyde Park, clutching my blanket to my chin like a child.

A couple of hours later, having talked and prayed further with my roomies, I decided to take a hot bath, calm down, and do a little reading. Then, as I’m contentedly reading about CS Lewis’ use of local expressions in his works of fiction, I get slammed in the face with this gem, a quote from his The Pilgrim’s Regress:

“Poor Uncle George has had notice to quit,” [John’s mother] said.
“Why?” said John.
“His lease is up. The Landlord has sent him notice to quit.”
“But didn’t you know how long the lease was for?”
“Oh no, indeed we did not. We thought it was for years and years more. I’m sure the Landlord never gave us any idea he was going to turn him out at a moment’s notice like this.”
“Ah, but he doesn’t need any notice,” broke in the Steward. “You know he always retains the right to turn anyone out whenever he chooses…”
“To be sure, to be sure,” said his mother.
“That goes without saying,” said the father.
“I’m not complaining,” said Uncle George. “But it seems cruelly hard.”
“Not at all,” said the Steward. “You’ve only got to go to the Castle and knock at the gate and see the Landlord himself. You know that he’s only turning you out of here to make you much more comfortable somewhere else…”

Now, isn’t that a little too coincidental? It spoke to me with the heart of a father, like a crack on the rump followed by a hug and a whisper of safety. That said, I felt a sense of dread fall upon me; it’s just like the Lord to speak like that, and he didn’t seem to want to do things the way I wanted. So I decided not to mention it to my roomies just yet.

We wavered back and forth about moving out, unable to really connect. A possibility would present itself; our hopes would rise, and then slowly deflate. I started getting accustomed to the idea of moving out, but it still cut me to the heart. “I don’t want to move…” I kept whining. “But I’m yours, God. You know what’s next for me; you have my best at heart. Do what you have to do. Just make it clear.”

Lo and behold, on Tuesday I heard from my friend Lillian, a spiritual mom (maybe more like spiritual crazy aunt - in the best way!). She’d had a dream about me. That has happened to me (maybe) twice in my lifetime, so I definitely took note.

In this dream, I was showing her my house, and it was decorated really inventively, with bamboo and orange walls and funky curtains. She looked behind one of the curtains and saw a giant, fluffy yellow bird. The bird took off running, and I pursued it. Then she turned back to look at the house, and the curtains were ripped and disappearing, and there was bird poop and pee all over. I guess I was gone.

What every detail of the dream means, I don’t know. But I love the image of the bird; it reminds me of my room and all the creativity and imagination that have started to bloom for me. And the house, while once beautiful, is only going downhill. There’s really nothing to come back to. So I feel doubly sure that I, we, are to move out of our house.

Who knows what’s next? I don’t. Whatever that fluffy bird represents, I’m chasing after it, abandoning what I know to see where it’s headed. I’m praying that Papa reveals that to me…and rather quickly.