Nestled in the mountains was a little village. Every house the same. Two stories making a perfect cube. A pyramid roof on top. With such uniformity, every family strived to be different. The painted houses were every imaginable color. Some added shutters and lattice work with flowering vine. Everyone spent hours landscaping. So as we approach the village we see a bright menagerie of joy.

But on every house one thing was exactly the same. At the very peak of the roof a bright metal cylinder extended. Capped with a bright metal ball. And every now and then that ball would begin to whirl. Every house in sync. It startled us, but everyone in the cozy neighborhood did not blink an eye.

That is except for Madam Pants. So named for the bright pants she always wore, even to Sunday worship. She had outlived her generation by two. And her mind was slipping. But after school we watched the children run to her house. She brought out a plate of fresh cookies and welcomed her “little nomads”. Those were the only words she spoke.

Ezekiel had to ask his sisters what the word “nomad” meant. He assumed it was a cookie devourer. But discovering it was people who moved, he spoke up, “Madam Pants, we don’t move, we stay.”

“Yes,” echoed his sister, “this is our mountain. We are not nomads, we are settlers!”

“Little Nomads,” was her response, as they each devoured a cookie.

The children then ran to finish chores. One other part of each home was the same. Behind the house was a square garden, with a strange fence. Unlike every other fence, wooden posts and pickets, each side was a long bright metal pole. Wide and thin, it was more blade than cylinder. Why not a regular fence? “Tradition”, said parents, “this fence carries blessing”.

Ezekiel and his sisters were soon weeding and picking a harvest of green beans. Then, seeing the first ripening tomato, Ezekiel rushed to be the first to pluck and taste it. A trip and a crash and all four sides of the fence crashed down.

With shouts and accusations, the kids began to pick up the fence. Having watched it all, we walk over to help. Each fence is surprisingly light. But there is no easy way to fit them back together. “Are we missing a part? There should be some kind of connection!” you wonder. At that moment the cylinder at the top of the house begins to spin.

All the children look up. After years of ignoring the whirring sound, they look anew at the spinning ball. Then back at the fence. As one, “Could the fence connect up there?!” Forgetting the garden a new project has begun. The oldest grabs a ladder. Ignoring our protests, they are soon up on the roof. And we are helping lift the fence pieces to them. At the peak, the ball has stopped and the end of each fence easily snaps into a slot. Soon all four fences are sticking straight out into the air. One in each direction.

Parents are arriving home, as the children climb down. Confusion and chaos erupts. Everyone talking over each other. You and I slip backward and find ourselves standing next to Madam Pants, “NOMADS!” she shouts. And at her word the ball begins to spin.

The house begins to shake. The arguing ceases. Dad urges everyone inside, which seems the opposite of rational. But when the door closes, the house begins to rise into the air. Soon it was flying over neighbors toward the valley.

The rest of the village is outside gawking. Some immobilized, but others are taking down their own garden fences. Other houses rise in the air. Before we knew it the whole community was gone. All except Madam Pants, who had never stopped shouting “Nomads!”

It was good that you and I had wandered into the village. Madam Pants needs us to help install her fence, well, I guess I mean propeller. Installed, we start to say goodbye, but as it began to spin, she opens her door to us, “Nomad?”

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Hurting my back has forced me, between PT, rest, frustrating setbacks, to consider my purpose and calling. What is my purpose when I can no longer say yes and help? Was saying yes to everything ever supposed to be my purpose?…

I doubt it. As I was exhausted. And not sure I used my best gifts. And by yes to everyone, did I settle for their desires rather than God’s?

In this moment I am praying I will let God carry me. Beyond ease. Into adventure.