Disconnect

Disconnect (N) To separate one thing from another thing: detach, disengage, uncouple.

This has been a pretty huge weekend, with a lot of things in our life coming together. On Friday night, Acacia Theatre Company's production of Pride and Prejudice, which I directed, opened. It's a fantastic show, and I'm incredibly pleased with it. Directing this play has without question been the biggest undertaking of my theatre career, and I'm really proud of the results. We have had very good audiences, and the response has been overwhelmingly positive. It was amazing to sit and watch the fruit of my last two months' labor. Only a total maniac would try to direct a play while fixing up and selling a house, getting ready for a cross-country move, and preparing for a four-month backpacking trip.

Guilty as charged, I guess.

The other major event of the weekend is that as of noon yesterday, we have accepted an offer on our house, to close on July 31st, two days before we leave Milwaukee. It's contingent on inspection, of course, but it's a solid offer from a woman who seems very nice (she responded to my ad on Craigslist, so we've been emailing back and forth) and I'm sure it's going to go through. This is a relief of a magnitude that I can't begin to put into words. My posture today is noticeably more erect from the weight off my shoulders.

I honestly can't say that I'm surprised, though. In a real estate market consistently described in the media somewhere between horrible and apocalyptic, we have an offer for our house for close to our asking price in less than 10 days. Amazing? Maybe, but I knew in my heart that it would come through. The whole move to Houston has had God's fingerprints on it from the very beginning two years ago, so I knew He wasn't going to leave us in a lurch. Getting the house ready has been stressful, but I always had peace that everything would fall into place. And it seems to be.

As a traveller, I love to go independently and with my own plans, forging my own way. On the trip through life with God, sometimes you need to just sit back and enjoy the ride.

But all of these events are creating a really strange feeling. The opening of my last show with Acacia, my theatrical home for the past six years, and the offer on our house, have combined to crystalize the fact that we are leaving. It's all really happening, and there is no stopping it. In 20 days, we will get up early in the morning, get in the car, and start the drive to Houston. Four days later, we will be off.

As I write this, I'm sitting in the lobby cafe at our church, Mercy Hill, which has been our spiritual home for the past year-and-a-half. I love this place, and am so thankful for our time here. God led us here after a very difficult period in our lives, and the friends that we have made here have been a huge part of our healing. From the beginning of our time here, we have known we would be leaving, so it always had a bit of a feeling of being a temporary oasis.

But this morning, I am really experiencing a strong feeling of disconnection, probably because of the offer on the house. For the first time, it feels real, and when I walked in this didn't feel like my church anymore. I feel like I'm here visiting friends whom I love very much, but I don't feel like I'm part of this body. And that's a little sad.

There will be many more moments like this over the next three weeks. After this afternoon's performance, there is a combined cast party and send-off for us, and I'm sure that will be emotional as well. But in spite of the disconnection that I am feeling this morning, the beautiful thing is that as part of a larger body, we are never truly disconnected.