Flowers from my old garden

Proverbs 13:12   Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.

I have an appointment to get my home inspected again. It happens once a year–the landlord pays the property management to come by and walk through my home, making sure all is well within their walls.

Reminding me that they aren’t mine.

So lately I am scrolling scrolling scrolling through real estate listings, looking for I don’t know what yet, something to fill my room with disco lighting from the sky and my computer screen with promise and possibility. I’m crazy enough to want waterfront–we live on a peninsula–but wondering how many more years will I want to sit within other people’s walls to make that happen, my garden relagated to a dozen pots on the porch, and my children tied to a neighborhood (lovely as it is) that offers no creek to wade in, frogs to hunt or woods to explore.

Perhaps I am simply fostering discontent with my scrolling. Or perhaps I am sensing our time of “rest” is coming to end, and that the time to create a home of our own is beginning to sound right and reasonable. There is a sense of trepidation as well, of not wanting to make the same mistakes again. So I pick at my nails even just thinking, what to do, what to do.

Also, what is it we want? Do we want livestock again? I think, yes, of course. But, then again, maybe not. Do we want to stay here? Of course! But, maybe not. What will my girls with Down syndrome need as they head into the teen years and beyond? I have no idea. I dream of a studio (podcast and otherwise) and a garden, but maybe I’m not really cut out for any of that. Argh, the uncertainty. The heart sickness in it all. The hunger for that tree of life.

John 14:2   In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.

I can’t wait to dwell in the place God prepares for me. In the meantime, I am tidying up someone else’s house. I hope I pass their inspection.