It wasn’t on my calendar nor in my plans; on September 17, 2010 my homeless journey began with the question, Where do I live now?
I’ve been asking it ever since.
A flood of mold toxins, released during the replacement of a leaking window in our home, poisoned our house, making it uninhabitable due to the mycotoxins, and making my daughter and me incompatible with the world.
Our beloved Dr. P assured that if we could get out of water damaged buildings and the consequential fungal growth, our hyper reactivity to mold, mycotoxins, chemicals, fragrances and countless other offending substances would start to subside.
For three years I asked, Where do we live now? The answer faithfully came in the provision of a friend or relative’s home, a borrowed travel trailer in our driveway, a hotel, a cabin at an RV park, a house owned by a local church, a vacant condo, a brand new modular house for rent, and two new rental townhouses.
After three years and twenty-two moves, a brand new Airstream became our home. We still asked, Where do we live now? However having a safe space to live in created stability. We started to improve until we smelled that unwelcome musty odor. The refrigerator drained not outside the trailer, but onto the plywood subfloor.
Believing Airstreams were the best constructed, we purchased a second. Pint sized this time. Due to an unseen leak behind the toilet it took less than an month for this brand new RV to develop a mold problem severe enough that we slept in our SUV to escape the detrimental effects.
My search online intensified for a trailer which could not develop a fungal problem. Oliver Travel Trailers are all fiberglass. Fiberglass cannot rot and develop mold. We purchased our third trailer in four years.
After a year of living in the Oliver, we can attest that what Dr. P told us is true. We still react to places and people, but it’s less frequent and the symptoms less severe.
This seven year journey initially was a flight from a lethal threat, a quest to try to keep my daughter alive and getting well.
It’s been one of much solitude. Consequently I savor the presence of Jesus, and fellowship in Him with others when granted.
It’s been a healing journey, and not just of our bodies.
Our Father disciplines, teaches, reproves in love. This journey is one of learning some painfully hard and some wonderful lessons.
The Good Shepherd speaks. I’m learning to hear His voice and follow.
We all are on a journey. We are not alone. We have a Home.
We are sojourners.