I don’t outright talk about religion here–even though it is a HUGE part of my personal life–because I feel like it is something vastly personal and I never want any friends to feel excluded because their beliefs do not match my own. But since my word for this year is FAITH, I am going to share a few posts about how things are going with my word–and that means I am going to share some very personal, vulnerable aspects of my own faith and the journey I’ve been on this year. I hope that instead of feeling excluded or triggered, you can see your own personal journey in what I share and look for our commonality. If you are currently in a place where religion makes you feel offended or upset, you might want to pass on this series. My goal is to share in hopes that it helps bring joy and hope to your life. If you are not in a place where you feel open to someone else’s perspective on faith, this will be here if and when you are ever interested in the future.
So yesterday, I told you about how we put our house on the market and got an offer right away. Showings and offers continued throughout the next day (I have to point out that miraculously nobody scheduled a showing during the time we were at church, so we were blessed to be able to keep our puppy safely crated at home, come home, then pack up and go to our friends’ house before the several showings began). But just as we were getting ready to head out for church that Sunday morning, I got a text from our realtor: her friend wasn’t ready to sell after all. And now our house was already on the market. I am not going to lie: my first reaction was panic. We had moved forward believing that we knew where we were headed. Now, it was as if the rug had been pulled out from under us to reveal—like in those cartoons—that we had already stepped off the cliff. And now that we saw it, we were falling.
But the falling sensation didn’t last.
Because the whole time we’d been moving forward, I kept reminding myself that this may not work out the way we think. I only knew that if this house wasn’t going to work out, that maybe this timeline was what we needed to push us to be ready for whatever miracle was supposed to be our home. Because in this market, finding a home within our budget that will meet our needs and at least some of our wants has proven to be impossible. Even in the weeks we have been searching since that rug-pull situation, I have watched prices rise and houses that would have once been within our grasp are welllll beyond what we can even stomach. It has felt impossible. But then I am reminded of Mark 10:27: “And Jesus looking upon them saith, ‘With men it is impossible, but not with God: for with God all things are possible.’”
And I know impossible. We have miracle babies! We have experienced miracles big and small throughout our lives. And this year, as I naively chose the word FAITH as my little word for the year, I am feeling my faith stretching and growing beyond anything I expected. I am remembering the miracles I have seen. I am celebrating them.
Because there is power in remembering.
I know this.
My brain has been in an exhausting volley between panic and remembering to trust Him. Over and over, all day long, day after day. But I am choosing trust. I am moving forward. Because He loves me. He has a plan for me. And even though I can’t see how it all ends right now, I can trust that it will end better than I can imagine.
The more I’ve thought about this, the more I realize that the Lord knows me so well that He knew I would never NEVER enter this housing market if I didn’t think we already had a sure thing in place. I am not a big risk-taker, especially when I know that risk involves my children. I would have sat this out. In our same old house of the past 15 years. And waited till the market chilled out. Till houses didn’t sell in a matter of hours for ridiculous amounts ABOVE their already too-high list prices. I wouldn’t have been willing to participate in bidding wars and prepare offers on houses I hadn’t even seen yet. But most of all, I would have missed this chance to grow my faith. He knew what it would take to push me out of my comfort zone and into this season of growth, because I honestly thought surviving a year of homeschooling our five kids through a worldwide pandemic was all I could handle right now. He knew—still knows—better.
So we accepted an offer that gave us a little more time to stay in our home while we began hunting for our new home. And we packed our house, clinging to faith with every box.
