left field

Update 3/20/2013: We learned today that the interested couple will have to pass on our home. I've had some comments from people worried about us because I sounded like I was in despair. Please know that is most definitely not the case. I use this blog to be open and real, and hopefully minister to other women feeling similar things and looking for someone who can relate. I do not despair because The Lord provides ALWAYS. It may ruffle my feathers, but I'm held in the shadow of His wing, and in that safe place there is no reason to (nor room for) despair. 




I am kind of an organizer. I love making lists. In fact, even if I have already accomplished a task, I might still write it down on my list just to have the satisfaction of crossing it off. Some might call that neurotic. That's ok, I would too. :) I live by my lists: grocery, to do, packing, etc. I also live by my calendar. I write down everything, yes, even things that have already happened. Maybe this all goes back to that whole control thing I deal with, but it made me really good at my job and I think it makes me really good at being a housewife and mom. We are efficient. We are organized. And we are always (usually) on time. 

The Lord and His timing never cease to amaze me. In January 2012 we put our house on the market. I wrote a post during which I might have wept over my keyboard. Nope. Not might. I definitely bawled through it. The Lord had burdened us to let it go. We were faithful and dove head-first into me being at home with Dane, but keeping me home meant getting rid of the house. So, through lots of tears (all mine) and lots of prayers, we listed it. 

I have moved more times than I can count. I have had an address in six different states. I went to three elementary schools, three middle schools, and three high schools. Moving is not new to me. So, why on God's green earth was I weeping over one stupid house. We weren't even leaving the town, just the house. No new friends. No new job. No new school. Just a new house. 

But this is our house. I picked out that shade of greyish blue for Dane's nursery. I painted the front door red and got paint all over my big, pregnant tummy. I have ruined a dozen manicures landscaping this yard and keeping the weeds at bay. I have mopped these hardwood floors on my hands and knees. I chose that couch for this living room. And our giant bed to go with the tray ceilings in our master bedroom. I brought my baby home here. We've had major fights in that kitchen. These walls have heard our deepest secrets and most earnest prayers. I was okay with giving up hardwood floors and tile countertops, truly I was (am), but I was afraid that all of my memories would remain within these walls like the nail holes from our family pictures. 

After six months with one realtor, we didn't sell. So we listed again with a new realtor, this time one who was a friend and neighbor. Showings and open houses didn't prove fruitful and after 13 months on the market, on February 12 our home was no longer for sale... we thought. 

Our realtor/friend/neighbor called last week to tell us she had a couple who she thought would be interested in our house. But before showing them photos and telling them about it, she wanted to be sure we might still consider selling. Honestly, after 13 months of nothing, what was it gonna hurt? "Bring 'em on!" we said. And she did. And they loved it. And now we are waiting to hear whether or not they are going to make an offer. 

What the WHAT?!?! My house isn't even FOR SALE!! How the heck did this happen? How I am suddenly back to the place where we don't feel settled here, back to looking at other homes, back to crying over the sink as I wash dishes because I just don't want to leave. 

You know how you mentally prepare for something? 

Your grandpa is old and sick, so you wrap your mind around the fact that he won't be with you much longer. And when he passes you cry and you're sad, but you're not surprised. 

Your transmission is out in your car so you do some research and get a rough estimate of what it will cost. Then when you get the bill, you don't throw up when you see the total because you were prepared for a number close to that. 

You know that staying home with your baby means selling the house you love but can't afford, so you put it on the market. And every day you look at that sign in the front yard and you think, "I am probably moving." You look at other houses or apartments. You look at jobs in other states, because, hey, if I'm moving, let's make it worth our while! 

But when that sign leaves your yard, when the transmission stops acting up, when Grandpa gets better, mentally you un-prepare. You move on because, you think, that ship has sailed. I was obedient to the Lord for 13 months. For 13 months and through numerous showings, I cleaned this house and prayed every day that I would give it all up for Him. I look at my sweet boy's face and flip through pictures of all we've done together in the 20 months of his life and it's just soooo worth it, because it's just a house. 

However, when that for sale sign left the yard, I mentally unprepared and fixed my mind on staying. I have painted a swatch of the new color for the kitchen. I have plans for a play place in the back yard for Dane. I am going to paint stripes in the bathroom. I am making new curtains and a duvet for the guest room, etc, etc, etc. Then all the way from left field, in a Father-of-the-Bride-movie kinda move, someone might want to buy my house and the type-A planner, calendar-worshiper in me curls up in the fetal position and bawls like a newborn baby. 

"But I don't WANNA leave!" I cry to God in temper tantrum voice that sounds so much like my son's I finally realize where he got it. I was faithful. I gave you time. Now quit making me live by faith and quit reminding me that all things happen in Your time and just work by a calendar that I can follow along with and check things off of, please! This isn't in my plan!

It's not in my plan, but it is in my plan. It's in the beautiful, organized, orchestrated-by-the-Lord plan that's really so much more thought out than the one this sometimes-forgetful, often rash, ball of emotions could dream up. 

So now, we'll wait. We'll prayerfully wait to hear from our realtor. I'll take copious amounts of pictures. I'll run my hands down the walls as I walk down the hallway. I'll take mental photographs of the way Dane looks as he sits and plays cars, with the afternoon sunlight shining through the front windows. I'll go visit Binx's grave a few more times. I'll savor the sounds of the frogs at the creek through the open windows on a spring night. We'll take a few extra carrots to the horses every day.

We'll wait to see what the Lord has in store next. It's gonna be good, I know it. He carried the Israelites through the wilderness for 40 years. They ate manna and quail, they drank water fresh from a rock, and their feet didn't even swell! If He could carry them through a wilderness of 40 years, He will carry my through this wilderness of a few weeks. I've prayed for the sun to stand still (Joshua 10), and I now sit and wait, because He might have made the sun stand still in our world- albeit, not like I had in mind, but it's still so unexpected, so far out of left field, something we were so unprepared for, that when it all comes to a close, He'll be the only one to get the glory for it. That sounds like an okay plan to me. And when it happens, you better believe I'll mark the date on my calendar. :)