Yesterday we listened as details of Steve Irwin’s death were broadcast. What an absolute freakish thing to have happened! I ache badly for his wife and their kids–to have to go about life now without a mate and daddy makes me incredibly sad for them. Their grief is compounded by their shock, I’m sure–Irwin was healthy, vibrant, and full of life. And now he’s gone. Such a strange thing and so uncommon (unlike a car accident or something else more mundane), it made me think, “Wow! It really must’ve been his time to die.” Now that’s not to say that those who pass on in some other manner go before their appointed time, just that with something so odd and so specific to Irwin himself, that’s the thought that occurred to me.
I wasn’t a huge fan of the Crocodile Hunter–while he was a conservationist, I deemed him a bit too showy for my tastes. Lunging at crocs with lawnmowers wasn’t exactly my style. But thousands of children across the world were mesmerized by him and learned a huge amount about animals and their habitats from the man. And like Mr. Rogers’ passing, parents have to explain things like death to their kids when they’d rather not. Mark’s observation, though, is probably pretty apt; he noted that Irwin was in a habitat and surrounding that he loved and was doing what he was passionate about–filming wildlife. And to that end, it seems a bit fitting. I hope that doesn’t seem callous, because that’s not how I mean it to be. His tribute is also in his passing, I think. I’ll continue to pray for his family as they cope with his loss and their grief–and hope that the media permits them time to grieve privately.
On another note, we listed the house last night. Our agent came out and (happily, for me!) said that there really wasn’t anything to change in order to make it more sellable. It’ll be on the web tonight, and hopefully will sell quickly. We have yet to see the fruition of our act of faith (i.e., what the next step is), but we know that it will be made clear soon enough. And we’re content to hang on and see what God has planned for us.
It really does feel weird, though, to drive up and realize the ‘for sale’ sign in the yard is in MY YARD. :O Weird!! And ultimately, the house *does* feel different. Almost as though it’s not “my house” anymore, even though it still is. Maybe this is part of the emotional detachment that needs to come before selling your house. Or maybe it’s just me. Time will tell, and details will (of course) be updated as warranted. 😉.