Time clicks forward as do the continuing plans and events in the anderson house. Today had Daniel picking up cap and gown for the upcoming milestone on the fifth. As this transition begins to take hold in my bones the emotional manifestation is presenting itself in the form of myopia. (O.K. I haven't missed a single episode of HOUSE, can you tell?) Hey, when things change you focus on new things, right? This particular form of myopia isn't new for me. I get focused on a particular idea and it begins to take over most of my thoughts. Some may call it daydreaming, but many of my "daydreams" take on tangible form if given time and nurture and this one is picking up steam. So while our only son prepares for college, I am planning the next big thing. Hopefully when those moments of maternal loss/closure hit me I can channel energies toward this new obsession.
Our friend Presley has found some land that suits our purposes. During our trip down south as he ushered us around the island showing us the northern parts we encountered an unassuming somewhat carefree elderly gentlemen riding down the road on a rickety old bike. Presley stopped the car and flagged him down. Calling the man "Jonesy" he had a quick dialogue in thick Bahamian accent regarding property this man owned. I wanted in the worst way to take this man's picture because he had the kind of face that told a million stories. But I refrained for fear of offending him. I caught bits and pieces of the conversation enough to know that Jonesy didn't know how much his property was priced at and to talk to"Dilly" who would know. He got back on his bike and rode away.
Fast forward three weeks to last night. On the phone with Presley who speaks a mile a minute, we find out that the property that our hopes are pinned on indeed belongs to Jonesy. He holds it in hopes to sell to someone who actually wants to develop something and bring more jobs and industry to the island (instead of investors who are scooping up every last parcel to hold it for years and years to ultimately retire on the resale profits). That unassuming little gentlemen on the bike has hopes in the legacy of his land.
So our friend Presley (who in my mind has sprouted angels wings) has been doing everything he can to secure a tiny portion of Jonesy's estate for our future artist retreat. We have yet to see photos of the property because even though he has enlisted every family member he knows to show him how to send a photo over email, nothing has worked (alas the island is crying for tech support).
Sharing this tidbit with my mother proved fruitful when she pointed out that "well just do that satelite thing on your computer" (meaning google earth) which I don't know why we didn't think of that, but thanks to mom I have a better idea of where our potential retreat may be. A zillion hoops to jump through because of the unconventional nature of this transaction are soon to follow. One of which is of course another trip down there to set our feet on the actual sand, feel the air, see the direction of the sun, etc. But for now here is what we know via googleearth.
Red dot = future Artist's Retreat, or as Daniel calls it "The Artist Monastery". Many discussions around the dinner table have involved the spiritual nature of this retreat. I am not sure what god is unveiling in this, but like so much of our ministry involvement over the years rarely is the whole picture revealed to us all at once. There is mercy in the incremental stages because frankly, if I was shown the entire process and conclusion now I would probably not be able to handle it. But I am sure of the first steps. The rest will unfold as it should.
So much up in the air that it makes me hold my breath without realizing it. The biggest thing being the hope that by some miracle no one buys it before we can get down there.
light a candle. say a prayer.