The next week of my life will be spent packing. When faced with the prospect of packing, you wonder why you ever decided to move out of a perfectly livable situation.
Describing the "sojourns" of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, one biblical writer recalls that "they lived in tents." That means, "they were always packing." Can you imagine?
I know that once we get settled in Amarillo, I'll get excited about meeting new people and about teaching, etc. And like the mother who forgets or disregards some of the pain of childbirth because of her new gift, I won't be thinking about all the packing then. But today, I'm thinking about packing.
I went to one of those order-your-boxes-on-line sites and came across this statistic: The average move requires the packing of 150 boxes. For some reason, that seems like a low number to me; probably because the statisticians don't realize that after throwing out more junk than I knew I had, it still seems like a lot of stuff.
I know, I know. One eats an elephant one bite at a time. But when was the last time you ate an elephant? And did you ever want to?
Okay, where are those boxes?