This week I have been quite busy – planning a retirement party for a colleague, making a video in his honor, grading, attending meetings and interviews. It’s my last full week of work (a few meetings and such continue next week), and I should have realized it would be hard. I didn’t really though.

But it was, it is. To leave something behind that I always wanted to do, that is harder than I expected. I find myself just a little sad in spirit. I don’t doubt my decision; it’s the right one. But to know that the work there will go on without me, to know that a dream has moved past it’s time, that’s tough.

So today, I launch out, at least in my mind, on the next phase. I’m going to mow my grass and then start looking at freelance ads. I’m hoping to find some writing opportunities that will give me the chance to learn about new things and new places and new people while also helping me pay bills. That part of this journey sounds so exciting.

And in the meantime, I keep working on my house in the attempt to get it to sell so that I can begin to move into my plan for a farm. I look at farms and imagine what mine will be like. Right now, I’m particularly interested in barns – big red barns with dirt ramps for loading in wagons (or in my case, sound equipment).

Through this heavy sadness and great excitement, I know I am cared for. I get nervous at times, wondering how all of these things will come together, but at my core, I feel great peace and confidence that my God, who loves me, has it all under control.