And the net appears

For those who read my post “Cowgirl Up” earlier this year, you might recall I have a track record for acting before thinking. It’s that tough girl syndrome, and I’m not so sure it’s a good thing. However it has landed me in some interesting situations. Sometimes flat on my butt.

And sometimes, just sometimes, that craziness pays off. Those few times are probably responsible for that naughty little voice inside egging me on with just enough confidence to try it again. That little voice urging me, “Sure, give it a try! What do you have to lose?” At forty-five, with a husband by my side and a son in college, dog, cats and a dozen horses, a writing career that is refusing to take flight and a fabulous property that we can’t seem to pass on… Plenty.

Leap! And the net will appear!
I told him
He believed me.
And tell you what, for a while there, I was pretty sure that was a stupid thing to say and do.

Leap! And the net will appear!
We had held hands and jumped.
Left behind everything we built and most of what we owned to forge ahead like the pioneer I dream myself to be, looking for the perfect place to settle down.
And there we were like the rabbit falling endlessly wondering where time was going and when we’d reach the bottom.

Eight days. All it took was eight days and the pieces of the puzzle began to shift into place. The picture they are forming into, I might add, is even more beautiful than I imagined.

But of course, during those eight days, it was he supporting me. My weakness was wrought with spells of tears and fears and foolishness.

Perhaps moving 1400 miles and five states away with no more than a blind rental in place is not the way to make a move. But no one told me you were supposed to have it all lined up, job and all, before you give it a go. Bob said he had heard it is usually done that way, but again, he trusted. After all, he hadn’t done this sort of thing before. I was the expert. Ha! God, I love this guy.

I haven’t figured out if it is fate, fortune, or just dumb luck. But sometimes things work out. Fall into place. Come together just so.

Go figure. I don’t know how or why, or who or what to thank, but I’m mighty grateful. Saved my butt yet again.

And this time, made me look pretty good in the eyes of my husband.

“See,” I can tell him, “Told you it would work out!”

But I don’t say that. Because I think secretly he knows I was pretty scared there for a while. But don’t tell him that.