I am surrounded by boxes and packing tape. Big, fat, salty tears have been rolling down my cheeks as I wrap up precious treasures. In less than a month I will be moving and I have no idea where I am going.
That is probably a very strange concept for most of you, reading those words.
This is not a concept unfamiliar to me~ it transports me back to 1985. But I was a child living in foster care then. I really thought those days were far, far behind me. I had hoped so.
I can do this.
First, I have to push down huge, gasping sobs so my kids won’t hear me. Because if they see mama panic… they’ll panic.
Just three hours ago I had SO much hope. It was bubbling over.
After church we did a drive by on a house. I felt it.
Yesterday while we looked at house after house I didn’t.
But today, we walked in and even Mr. Décor felt it.
Two weeks ago I had the same feeling. But that house was not to be.
Surely, surely, after all that we have been through in the past several months…
Some days I feel awesome just for the fact that I got out of bed.
The gray could cover and smother me if I let it.
I tell myself “I can do this.”
I have quit asking “What else can go wrong?”
I now know that God can give someone more than they can handle.
But I can do this.
Then the realtor called and for the fourth time in three weeks someone else now owns what I thought was my future. Someone who doesn’t need a home, just another investment property.
I am running out of time.
I look at my husband, my kids and two dogs. One of whom was a homeless emotional mess dropped off on my front porch a little over two weeks ago. He is just now starting to trust.
I am the person.
You know, the one who makes everything ok.
I may be thinking “What the hell are we going to do?” but it can’t show.
Because I am the person.
Waves of sadness are crashing over me. It’s in me, down deep, to really freak out. I can feel it.
I am now in the kitchen washing glassware because I don’t like to wrap up dusty dishes.
OCD freak for sure.
It feels like I am washing what seems to be the 100th votive holder of the day. My mind then wanders and asks “How many votive holders do I have?” I start going from room to room collecting these various containers of burnt offerings.
I start to laugh.
Votive holder. No, votive HOARDER.
I have a problem. It appears that I have enough votive candles and holders to stock a cathedral.
This problem makes the other larger, almost impossible problems go away. For awhile.
In the midst of my quiet smile I softly hear “This is bigger than you.”
“It might be happening to you, but it is not about you.”
“Ah, I see. Well then, you must have a plan. So, I guess I’ll roll with it.”
I think about the first house. I liked it.
I think about the second house. I really liked it.
The third and fourth house were so full of amazing potential…
I just need to keep the faith. Because this is bigger than me. I can feel it. I can do this. But prayer sure can help.
“For we walk by faith, not by sight.” ~2 Corinthians 5:7
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.” ~ Proverbs 3:5
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” ~ Jeremiah 29:11