One week ago, we packed our things and headed east. My house in Beamsville sold. All the paperwork was completed on Thursday evening before our departure. Before an offer had been received, accepted, and completed, I found a place to rent on Wolfe Island for the month of September. I accepted the opportunity with no idea of what will be beyond September.

our temporary abode

My house in Beamsville closes on October 12. We’re currently on Wolfe Island – loving it completely. The girls will start school here on Monday.

Thus far, we’ve not found anything suitable to buy. A long-term rental may be available, not where we currently are but elsewhere on the island. At the moment, the only certainty is that we want to settle on the island. How God plans on orchestrating that, He’s yet to inform me.

Our journey towards permanency continues.

There are moments when a wave of worry washes over me. I don’t let it draw me into the waters of panic. I’m staying planted on the shore of faith. This entire move has been a surprise of God’s grace and doors opening unexpectedly. I trust He has a place for us and will reveal it in due time.

Meanwhile, I’m back to baking bread after a summer hiatus. After dinner, we walk to the lake. We watch deer eating apples in the backyard. The girls look for frogs and snakes. The boys watch butterflies and birds flap through the sky above them.

We’re adjusting to island life – figuring out the ferry, enjoying the bakery, finding out where the dump is since there’s no garbage trucks servicing the houses here.

our tempoary abode

The century home we’re renting still has separate quarters over the kitchen that were originally built for the servants. The floors are original wood planks. The lengthy windows, original doors, and clawfoot tub are things I dreamed of most of my life. Everything about this place would have excited my previous self – the one before children. Now I find myself longing for something entirely different. I’m pinning pictures of industrial looking minimalism. Perhaps it’s the influence of all the Scandinavian shows I watch on Netflix while the children sleep.

In the end, building may be the route we take. I just don’t know. What I do know is…..