If life came with a road map, it would carry a prominent warning: be prepared for frequent, unexpected course changes.
At any time, the pathway ahead of us, which might have seemed so clear, will develop a road block, making it necessary to adjust our plans. It's as though our on-board GPS is sending out a shrill, "Re-calculating."
The changes that take us by surprise are those quiet turning points we all experience along the way. These seldom arrive with whistles and bells. No one is standing by the side of the road with a sign proclaiming, "Pay Attention. This is important."
It's not till long after these experiences - a chance meeting, a sudden insight - that we realize it was a life changer.
If you think back to when you met that special person in your life, chances are there were no flashing lights above his or her head spelling out, "This is the one."
And, when something drew you into a certain field of work, there was probably nothing to indicate this would become your daily activity for the years ahead.
From jobs to hobbies, from community involvements to political causes, most of the activities that make up our day-to-day lives began with some unannounced turning point.
Recently, hubby George and I experienced just such an unexpected course adjustment that is having a profound effect on the future direction of our tandem path.
In October, I spent eight days in the hospital with a nasty viral pneumonia that brought with it a deep and unwelcome pothole in my otherwise comfortable road of life.
And, not to be outdone, George spent November battling a serious case of obstructive jaundice that turned him a less-than-attractive shade of yellow and resulted in hospital time and surgery.
Suddenly our peaceful Mosey was rudely interrupted with the realization we had to make some drastic changes in our lives.
After painful consideration, we both concluded the time had come to downsize, to remove the many maintenance chores George has always taken care of, to reduce my long list of housekeeping duties. In other words, it was time to simplify our lives.
We've known a number of couples that have reached this place in their life's journey and simply decided to ignore the warning signs. That left the decisions for their later years in the hands of others. And, in several cases, their children ended up with the overwhelming burden of sorting out what the parents had left behind.
So, while we're both in control of where we go from here, we've taken the huge step of making the next major transition.
We sold our beloved canal-side home and are downsizing into a condo.
Don't let me give you the impression this is going to be a sorrowful move.
Instead, the two of us, along with son Tim who completes our threesome, are relocating into a delightful condo in a beautiful complex called Fountain Court.
I'm convinced that, just as God led us to the house we're leaving, he has led us to this next special home.
Since the unit perches on the fourth floor, at the top of the impressive complex, I've named it The Nest.
Thus far, the transition has involved some labor-intensive and often painful steps - like the mega yard sale where we parted with many long-held treasures. Currently, we're concentrating on the huge job of actually making the big move.
Be sure to check out next week's Moseyin' Along to learn how this "Great Transition" went and how we're adjusting to life in our little fourth floor Nest.