I sit here in my chair this morning, writing . . . surrounded by boxes. All but TV, laptop, furniture, and me. . . .
Stacked and labeled, boxes inundate my space. An odd feeling, really. A starkly different view from before yesterday. In this room. In this house. With God’s help and inspiration, I (truly, He) created this home we loved to live in all of these 14 years.
Every few minutes I mindlessly look up from my laptop to the clock’s spot on the built-in shelving beside my chair. The clock I relied upon more than I realized (until now) is no longer there. Boxed and labeled like all the rest.
Yesterday, there was sadness over packing away covers I’d made for tables I will no longer use. No room. All this discarding. More chunks of my life . . . good-bye. As I look around, I think, “my life in boxes”. So many boxes! How did I accumulate so much stuff, even after multiple truckloads of donated discards? The rejected castoffs did not adequately lighten. Still too much stuff.
Although sitting here gives me an odd feeling, I marvel at the miracle. This is hubby’s dream home. A life on land. Since moving here, he stated over and over how he never wanted to live in a subdivision again. Ever. Funny how we should never say never. Or never ever.
This is what the Lord says — your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel, ‘I am the Lord your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go.’ (Isaiah 48:17)
I mentioned in my post, What is Your Rain?, that a couple of fellow motor cycle enthusiasts from my home town (Hattiesburg, Mississippi) met hubs for a few days of riding through Colorado while I was in Vail on my girl’s trip. One night after dinner, hubs told them we’d looked for a house in Hattiesburg for quite some time but had found nothing to fit our needs.
We’d looked around our small town, too. Nothing, and for so long. I very much need a one-story home with no stairs and less square footage. Hubs loves the look of a two-story, and with plenty of room. He wants land – a little at least. Even a one-acre lot is too small for my dude-ranch-kind-of-guy. He needed an out building (or ten – grin) for all of his farm implements and such. Big boy toys. You know.
I digress . . . sorry. Back to the story.
One of the fellow cyclists excitedly shared that his next-door neighbor needed to sell his house. Two days after returning from the Colorado trip, we were in Hattiesburg to see the house. Long story short, God was moving, and I mean fast! The hand-sized cloud story (discussed in this post) was again showing to be accurate, this time in our situation. Especially the part about
hurry – rain is coming!
Oh, and another God thing is that this house was one my brother had a hand in building. Alongside his full-time job, this brother built homes here and there. I never knew he built this house until the owner (a classmate of my oldest brother) mentioned it.
The koinkidinks were piling up. My former school mate and his wife were easy to deal with. Laid back. Very pleasant.
Within six weeks of a signed contract, we closed. Thanks to Handy Builder Dad (HBD), we are all set with some cosmetic updates and “HBD personal touches” throughout. (Thanks, Dad. I love it all. And you.)
All on the buying end of the move went smoothly. Now for the physical move.
We await God’s movement on one last thing. This house needs to sell. It is listed and ready for the next family to take the helm.This is what the Lord says---your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel, 'I am the Lord your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go.' (Isaiah 48:17) Click To Tweet
We continue to pray expectantly. It was so nice to hear that some of you were inspired (from my last post) to pray expectantly. I thank you who shared, either by private message, by commenting here on my site or on Facebook. Thank you!
I hope more of you will share experiences with praying expectantly. I love hearing your God stories! 🙂
Because He lives~
p.s. I wrote this post four weeks ago. The whirlwind of moving snagged me away from you before time to press the publish button . I tried to get back to you sooner, I really tried. Several times. Thank you for waiting. I hope to see you again sooner than a month from now! 🙂