I’ll admit my flesh pangs when the responses to our “For Sale” sign border on grief of leaving something so lovely. I doubt our decision to downsize, to rent, to save money to pay cash for another home. I doubt our conclusion that the amount of money to keep this house going is too much for our comfort level. I doubt my husband, my children, myself and my dogs will ever be really happy living anywhere else in the entire world except in this one house on this one lot. Because, after all, it is a beautiful house.
- greeting my husband after a long day with a smile, a gaggle of children yelling “DA-DDYYYYYY!” and a homecooked meal
- babies and toddlers pattering around the living spaces, dragging their stuffed comforts behind them.
- the smell of fresh bread baking, and the promise of a slice with melting butter
- being there to read to my children, and speak of word of encouragement or rebuke as the need arises
- cutting flowers from the garden to put into the mason jar by my kitchen sink
- listening to my children run and yell and play together as each other’s best friends, and serenade our guests with their vocal and musical instruments
Can’t I take those things with me? What matter is the square footage? Can’t I grow another herb garden? Can’t I still bake cookies or invite a friend over for tea? Will the hugs and kisses and laughter subside if our children never grow up to have their own rooms?
I have no idea when the house will sell. Or if. Or where we’ll go. But I don’t feel anxious about it at all. In fact, I have to admit I’m pretty excited! I love it when the Lord mixes things up. I’m looking forward to relieving my husband of stress, and of teaching my children that peace never comes from the living standards you set but from being content with where the Lord plants you. I never want to pine for what I don’t have or envy those that do.
If God wills it, it’s not so much a little house with a garden I want most (but Oh, God, who hears my prayers, grant me these I pray…), but His peace and grace and love to dwell wherever we are. Of this, I have no doubt, no matter how He chooses to shelter us.
Go before, Lord, go before…
Waiting for Jesus,
