When we began the whole home-seeking process we really didn't know what to expect. We really didn't know if--after several years of living on (what we'll refer to as) a very modest income--we would be good candidates for home-buying. You can only imagine our excitement and delight when we had our pre-approval letter in hand, followed by the thrill of the accepted offer. And so, you can also imagine what a heart-wrenching blow it was when our lender informed us last week, "Just kidding." Well, maybe those weren't his exact words. He apologized profusely, he had made a mistake. Come spring, everything should look great he says, you can try again then . . .
I'm going to admit to feeling my insides crumple up a bit at that news. I'm going to admit tears. And it's not just about the house I had dared to love and dream about. Change you see, is not something that comes all that naturally to me. I'm not really adventurous. I'm safe. Reliable. Boring. Josh actually gave me the final say when it came to accepting this new job. Feigning bravery, I told him yes. As I have watched our little plans unfold I have been amazed at how God worked them out in a way only He could, it was truly thrilling. But to lose the place we would be living has felt like coming upon a huge "dead end." I find myself standing there, wondering whatever possessed me to say yes to begin with. This is not how *I* like to do things. This is messy, unpredictable, and so very fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants.
I have walked through these last few days, my stomach at times literally churning, reminding me of the days I walked through five years ago when brain surgery was looming on the horizon. That worrying habit I thought I had kicked, rearing up with such a vengeance I can hardly stand to think about the situation. In that dull roar, the swirl of thought and emotion, bits of scripture pierce through--
For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life? And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith! Do not worry then, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear for clothing?’For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. "So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
(if God cares about the needs of birds He know the needs of my family)
In My Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you.
(even if I never get the chance to have "my own place" on this earth there is a promise of a forever mansion some day)
2 Corinthians 12:9
And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may dwell in me.
(God gives grace abundant to meet me where I'm at)
For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.
And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to hose who are called according to His purpose.
(I don't always understand how God is working and sometimes I really don't like it, but I know He is working things out in the best way possible for me--even when it means I don't get what I want.)
And I stay camped out in Psalm 37, meditating on the words that call me to action (or inaction)--
Trust. Do good. Dwell. Cultivate. Delight. Commit. Trust. Rest. Wait. Do not fret. Cease anger. Forsake wrath. Do not fret. I'm loving that extra emphasis on not fretting. Who, me??
I preach to myself truth and grace, whispering bits and pieces over and again when the panic surges up. I remind myself of my word . . . patience. I contemplate writing it out on paper just to have the chance to satisfactorily crumple it (and stomp on it a few times for good measure . . .). But I refrain. I know God is working here. I know He is refining me. I acknowledge that fires that refine can sometimes be a bit hotter than we care them to be. I am thankful it's "just a house" and not some dear loved one that has been snatched away. And I realize my vision is limited--perhaps that house was just all wrong, perhaps it is set to explode in November, perhaps Josh will take a new job next year and it would be better to be a renter, perhaps it was majorly inhabited by termites and various other wildlife . . . God knows all the details.
It's just one of those times when I'm reminded of why I started this blog in the first place. Life doesn't always go as we expect it, but regardless, we keep on, steadfast, knowing He knows what He is doing. And that is enough.
So yesterday, after getting the complete and official "no-go" I had my half hour of crying (eh, maybe 45 minutes) in which I informed Josh I was not going anywhere, he could just go on without me. And then I rallied, reminding myself of a most recent Sunday school lesson about Joshua and being "strong and courageous for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go . . ." As far as "plans" (trust me, I use that term loosely) to combat the looming homelessness, there is a rental possibility in Arapahoe that we are investigating. It has three rooms and is described as "spacious." That's all I know, but beggars really can't be choosers. And I kind of laugh to myself because all along I've hoped to avoid having to move all the way to Arapahoe. Kind of like Jonah trying to avoid Nineveh . . . We all know how well that worked for Jonah. If that ends up being where we land I guess that really is where God wants us--what a creative way of pointing us that direction! I guess I should be thankful no large aquatic creatures have been needed . . . yet.
Seasons (and the need of the moment)
3 weeks ago