Desperate

I'm reading this book. This incredible life giving book. I highly, highly, highly recommend it.  If I had tons of money I'd buy a copy for every mom I know. Seriously. I underlined so much in the last chapter I read that I decided to type up a big chunk of it.  I have a terribly horrible memory, but typing things seems to make it stick.  Then I thought, well it's typed, why not share it?  Which I'm not entirely certain is allowed but I'm citing the reference so hopefully it is (and if you don't tell, I won't either!)  I just loved it so much and it spoke straight to my journey as a mother that I NEED to share it with you.  From Desperate: Hope for the Mom Who Needs to Breathe, by Sarah Mae and Sally Clarkson.  Read this. Then go buy it.

Excerpt from Chapter 13 "The Art of Life"


God lives in my home, but sometimes I ignore Him and don’t hear the music He is playing just for me. This journey of mother-hood is a challenging marathon of moments, hours, days, months, years and decades. And yet, in each moment, God has sprinkled across our paths beauty, love and joy. We have only to cultivate eyes in our hearts to observe this Artist’s work of life. Whether it be a baby patting his mama’s chest as he gurgles milk, or a toddler giggling and screaming in fear at the sight of a frog; a little girl pretending to be a princess all dressed up in pink, or a little boy who spilled the milk one more time and longs for the gentle voice of grace from his mom; even a hormonal, reactionary teenager growing up and straining toward adult life; all of these moments and passages have the mystery and grace of God in them, just waiting to be unpackaged as evidence of His love.

Our shoulders often falter under a constant weight of performance and duty. We get caught up in the hectic cycle of endless tasks and often end up finding our lives to be a barren wasteland of burdens. We ask half-heartedly for a sip of His grace, never fully expecting Him to listen and answer. Yet Jesus wants us to come for a bottomless lake of his mercy, joy, fun, love, forgiveness, power, beauty, adventure and freedom. He desires to give us eyes to see every moment from His perspective, looking out with a view over all of eternity --- and seeing the stark difference between what really matters and what will soon pass.

Over the years, God has taught me to celebrate the infinite possibilities of what each day might hold. Choosing to look for the very fingerprints of God in every part of my world, as evidence of His love, has become a central life goal.  However, living a life of joy and contentment and imitating Him in our homes requires a willing ness to see our lives through the lens of God’s eternal perspective. He is wild, way beyond our control, and more interesting than we can imagine with our limited minds; but far too often we live in the mundane and don’t see the miracle of the moment because the eyes of our hearts have become blind to His reality. 

To me, one of the beautiful graces of a strong woman is the ability to see the true value of her own life and the lives of her children and to celebrate them every day, as Jesus did.  It was Jesus Himself who gave the example of treasuring children; He took time out of His busy day to hold them, to tousle their hair, to bless them.

Choosing to Be Thankful and Practice Being Content

To move from feelings of desperation to delight requires that the eyes of your heart and the attitude that you express be ones that exemplify God’s own heart and attitudes. We must come to accept and agree with scripture that “children are a gift of the Lord,” and that “the fruit of the womb is a reward” (Psalm 127:3). We must fit our heart to agree with God’s heart.

If every morning you look at your child as a gift from God, a blessing that He has bestowed today, and thank Him for that blessing, you will approach your children with love, patience, and grace. You have to bow your knee and say “God, you really are good and you knew exactly what you were doing when you gave me this child.” Your heart will not feel contentment and joy until it is aligned with the voice of God’s Holy Spirit within you. You will develop strength and fortitude in the attitudes you choose to practice and exercise. If you develop muscles of praise and thanksgiving, you will come to find increasing strength and stamina in those very practices. 

As a result, true joy, coming from God’s spirit, will bubble up in your soul. You will begin to see that your children are developing their own attitudes of gratefulness. Those around you will be blessed by being with you. A dedication to strengthening yourself in God’s Spirit will reap an exponential reward both in your live and the lives of those around you.

Put Away Distractions That Steal Your Joy

Television, cell phones, Facebook, blogs, social networks, and media of every kind are prevalent and prolific in our lives. We are so accustomed to such things that we hardly even know anymore how to enjoy the natural and “unplugged” moments in our lives, spending time in nature or treasuring experiences with loved ones. The modern person no longer walks into such interactions with a peaceful sense of contentment in the moment, but rather a frenetic restlessness, constantly wondering if, while gone from technology for a few moments, someone has left a comment, e-mail, tweet or Facebook message --- all distant and impersonal interactions.

The truth is that Jesus made us to be intimate with our family and friends. Only in personal and close interaction can relationships satisfy the deep longings that all of us have to be known and deeply loved.  If we cannot find a way to substitute an addictive, virtual faux reality for the opportunity to build intimacy and shared joy in the lives of our children, we will never pass on to them the concept that God is loving, present, intimate, and responsive. I often see women who have become so used to the substandard life that they cannot see that they have become empty, shallow, and impatient with a real live human beings right in their midst, who are longing for love but are also so ready to give back generously. 

Make a Commitment in Your Heart

Experiencing the deep fulfillment of being cherished is one of the best rewards of my life. Investing in love has paid off dividends far beyond what I could have initially imagined in my relationship with my children. They are my delight and best friends.

Yet this process developed by faith, and over an extended period of time. I had to behave as though I loved and cherished my children even when the feelings were weak or hidden, learning to be patient and really listen to them when I was exhausted was a commitment I had made long before finding myself in such situations. I had resolved beforehand to focus on saying words of life and encouragement when I really wanted time alone; to use a gentle and respectful tone when I was tempted to express anger. It was out of the belief that these commitments mattered to God that I made them. The core of this concept is that feelings will follow obedience. The more I practiced love, joy, peace, patience and all the other fruits of the Spirit, the more I found myself loving such attributes in the depths of my heart. It was as though God gave me these children, so that I could grow up and become all that He had designed me to be.

Children see through the lack of integrity of a mom as they grow older. If a mom is not living out her words of love by giving love, her children will learn to not believe her words. It is so vitally important that we live with integrity by choosing to worship God in front of our children through all the moments of our days. Celebrating God and all His attributes as well as his blessings creates a winsome energy that fuels a child’s own desire to follow hard after God. When a mom practices seeing the miracles and joy of God’s own making in all the moments of her day, a child will hunger after the same heart attitude.

See what I mean?  BUY IT!

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Repeating Peace

Stomach flu.  Say those two words within 5 feet of me and you might get...well, you definitely won't get hugged.   Preschooling A had it a few weekends ago, in her bed, in our bed and at the dinner table. Yes, while we were eating.  So odd for July. But obviously the virus didn't look at the calendar before invading my baby.

Being the  awesome mom that I am, I freaked out about A throwing up while sleeping and choking and us not know until morning.  So I slept in her bed with her.  For two nights.

Mistake.

She then, once well, decided she couldn't go to bed without me.  "I want mommy."  That's all she'd say, then proceed to scream and run out of her room the minute we laid her down.  I tried putting one of those door handle thingys on, the kind only adults can operate, and apparently A is an adult.  She got that piece of cheap plastic off faster than I could even figure out how to put it back on. 

It quickly escalated in ridiculousness.

Get back in bed.  No. Pick child up lay her down.  Child stands up in bed and refuses to lay down. Mommy walks out and closes door. Child opens door and runs down the hallway. Mommy screams. Child cries. Mommy gets Daddy.  Daddy lays child down in her bed.  Child stands up, hollers "I want mommy." Daddy threatens. Child really cries. Daddy gets Mommy. Repeat.

Sounds fantastic, huh?

My own mama used to say something to me.  To all her children really.  Every time we got out of the car to go to school.  Or left the house for ball practice. And especially when we got behind the wheel at 16.  From as early as I can remember, which is really only back to like 8th grade because I have an awful memory, which also may be due to the same mama praying my memory away (which she admits to doing), but none the less I remember these words.

"May the Lord bless you and keep you, may his face shine upon you."

It was her mantra.  Ingrained on our hearts and in our souls.  So much so that my sister has even passed it on to her kids. I'm sure even at ages 8 and 5 they could quote the line to you.

What I didn't know then, but know now is that line, is scripture.  Found in Numbers.

"The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace."  Numbers 6:24-26

Thanks to my mama's prayer, I have been blessed.  Even in rough, scary, horrible times He has kept me. Safe. Loved. Under His wing.  And even now I see, no I feel, his face shining upon me.

But the last part of that verse, the part that mama left out, probably because we would have stopped listening after the first fifteen words anyway, but that part about peace. We're missing that.  As a family unit, most days, peace eludes us.  

And it makes me sad.

We try.  We really do.  We wake up kind and patient and loving.  But preschooling A argues one too many times and tells me no over the most mundane asks and peace refuses to hang around.  What's with that?

A year ago or so, Husband R and I took a family mentoring class together.  Our homework in that class, inspired by the book What is a Family by Edith Schaffer (which is not the easiest book to read), was to write a family mission statement.  This was before A knew how to talk back or to even really question anything.  But interestingly enough, even back then, on the top of both our lists, the mission for our family, was the word PEACE.


Even before we knew what was ahead, we knew we wanted our home to be calm. Quiet. A place of refreshment.  And to this date, it's not.  Most days it's loud because A is trying to get my attention.  And it's stressful because I'm putting A in time out for not listening.  And it's exhausting because it's the same thing over and over and over and over again.

Solution?  I went shopping.  

 And bought this for my wall.  My mother gave me the first half.  But I'm making the second half my prayer.

May the Lord give our family peace.

And because shopping alone will never be enough, because "without the word of God as my daily bread, I would honestly be buried in a pit so deep that I wouldn't recognize daylight," (Beth Moore) I also found and wrote down this verse.

"Repent, then, and turn to God, so that times of refreshing may come from the Lord." Acts 3:19

Its what I want.  It's our family mission.  Peace. Times of refreshing. 

Look, no one is perfect.  And if you "hold out for perfect, you'll end up holding nothing." - Ann Voskamp

So when I get angry at A for not listening. Because she won't. And when I scream. Because I will. 
I can repent.  And try again.  

Repeat.

Only because of the grace of God.

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Happy Royal Baby Day

Welcome to mama-hood Kate Middleton. 

I love that even though you're royalty, you had to labor and push that baby into the world, just like the rest of us mamas.  I love that even though you're married to a prince, you won't get a straight eight hours of sleep for many months to come. And while you were standing in wedges with perfectly flowing hair, just 24 hrs after birthing that baby, I sat thinking how you'll get pooped on within the week. Yes, that's what it's all about and not even you, Kate, can escape it. 

And isn't it wonderful?

A sweet, baby boy.

And we love him, because he's yours and William's, a prince.

With all the talk and twitter and constant coverage, my mind wanders back to another Prince, born thousands of years ago.

And if he were born today, with all the internet and social media and easy news access, would he have been bombarded by paparazzi and blogged about and googled?

I can't answer that for sure, but my guess is no.

Because the whole thing about that baby, the Lord of Lords, was that he came into the world humble, innocent, widely unknown.

It had to be that way.

He had to be just like us, the common, the beggars, the poor.

He had to be accessible and approachable so that we could be saved.

So welcome to the world little prince of Cambridge.  I pray that you grow to one day know and honor your creator.

The

One

True

King.

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Popsicles in the rain

Confession time...there's this thing I struggle with. And I mean really struggle with, not like getting a toddler dressed and out the door struggle, but like if you asked me one thing I wish I could tackle and stomp out for good, it would be this.

Accomplishing too much at one time, or should I say attempting to accomplish too much at one time. Because let's face it, there's only so much one mama can handle. Yet I keep pushing to get it all done. And you know who suffers?

Toddling A. Who really needs to be upgraded. She's turning three next week after all and if she were still toddling I'd be concerned she was a little behind the curve...so Preschooling A it shall be.

Anyways, she is the one who ends up feeling like she's always in my way. But in reality, shouldn't she be in my way? She's a little girl wanting to do little girl things, like ride her scooter directly into the path of the vacuum. And spill flour all over the floor while helping make pancakes. And turn her playroom into a caution taped off police only disaster zone.. It's me who has the problem.

Try saying that out loud...it's my problem.

Last week I decided to have some friends over to play. I could have left it at that, had some friends over...the end.

Nope.

Not this girl.

I get home from work the night before and immediately start cleaning. I like my house but there is a lot of floor space and a lot of corners and sometimes it feels like I might as well be cleaning the driveway because the dirt doesn't stop! But here I am hurrying and busying and on a roll making sure there's toilet paper and hand soap and carpets vacuumed. And I'm sweating which is apparently all you do when you live inside a humid wool sock...aka the south. And that makes me mad and I remember I hadnt even cooked dinner yet.

And yep, you guessed it. Here comes Preschooling A. All smiles and just a flying on her scooter. I finish vacuuming and turn around and she has completely turned over a runner and scattered even MORE dirt onto the floor I JUST vacuumed.

I knew it wasn't a big deal but I had a ton left to do and was tired and she was supposed to be playing upstairs and so I see it as not listening and I lost it. You can add your own details. It wasn't pretty. And there were tears. The kind of tears that tell when a little heart is breaking.

And I'd like to tell you this doesn't happen often, and its true the yelling doesn't, but the feelings do. Being interrupted when I have nine different things going on drives me batty. And while I have learned not to yell and scream, I still confine Preschooling A to her room or tell her things like

"Not now"
"Go play"
"Just a second"

But....and here's the thing...

All the not nows and go plays and just a seconds will be over all too soon. And there will be the vacuum, sitting there, saying, now I have you all to myself muhahaha and ill be longing for the  interruptions of my sweet Preschooling A.

So just as I'm drowning in my guilt and shame and can't figure out how to come up for even one breath of relief, God brings me this.

"We are merely moving shadows, and all our busy rushing ends in nothing." Psalm 39:6

So I dropped what I was doing and Preschooling A and I went outside and ate popsicles in a glorious thunderstorm. Yes, even before we ate dinner. And the tears stopped and the guilt melted down along with the purple flavored ice. And isn't life just like that? Things get all out of order and sticky and then it starts to rain and lightening strikes and we get a choice. To keep trudging along the best we can, or trade all the chaos for a wild, unashamed, eating popsicles in the rain kind of moment.

That night I chose to trade. Trade a clean uptight house for some smiles and a gooey face.

I learned something else. To quote a favorite writer, Ann Voskamp,

"Hurry always empties a soul."

I don't want an empty soul. And most importantly, I don't want my precious daughter, the most important gift God has ever trusted me with, to have an empty soul either.

I'm working on slowing down and doing more soul filling these days.

And about that clean house...our friends came and our friends left. A mess that is. A tremendously wonderful mess. A we had way too much fun mess.

An honest to God mess of memories.

And that...

That'll fill your soul 'til it's downright flowing over.

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Fully loved - no.matter.what

'Sup?  We just spent an ENTIRE day at the zoo and the aquarium.  It's what I wanted for my birthday present this year.  Because one, I'm a nerd and b it seemed like the perfect day.  That is until you're toddler has a meltdown at 9am and is scared of the dolphin show and says at every single exhibit "I wanna see something else!"  Remind me next year to ask for a pedicure and massage.

Writing to you with my trusty straw-ber-rita at my side (which is all my brother's fault, after all he is a rep for Anheuser-Busch and with each sip I pay a little of his salary...right) seems like the perfect way to unwind.



So here I am.

Brand new.

We don't get to be brand new very often in our lives, some more than others, but new is how I label myself these days.  I'm new to a state, a town, a community, a job, a church, a preschool, a doctor's office and all the other things that come a long with moving.  I'm even new to Publix.

Exciting and little bit hair raising all in one go.

I've conquered a lot in the past month to negate my newness, minus actually changing my license plate and registering my car which my insurance company calls daily about.  I'll get around to that before well, I'll get around to it. I promise.

But besides all that, you know what's been the hardest to overcome?

Friends.

Finding them.

I've met women. And I've met mamas. But friends?  They're proving to be a little more elusive.

I recently read an article, passed along to me, ironically, by a good friend, that discusses why women need friends.  You can read it here.

You see, not only is spending time with good friends scientific...whoop whoop for oxytocin!

Spending time with other women is spiritual.  And just like if I slack on any other aspect of my spiritual life, I feel I live with a void.

A void so obvious that when another girlfriend from NC spontaneously visited me, I had to choke back tears as we stood hugging in my driveway.  Just that short hour of a visit, talking about nothing and talking about everything filled my fellowship tank for days.  You can read her blog here and fill up your own tank.  It's worth it. Trust me.

So, if friendship is THAT important for us women, why are friends so hard to find?  Doesn't make much sense to me. Shouldn't all us women, and especially all us Christian women, be reaching out and over and in and out again to other women? 

I've been in contact with two mom groups recently.  One I found online through a meetup website and the other I found through a local church.  My first experience with the online group was a mom's night in.  I had a blast.  The other mom's were friendly and welcoming and funny, good grief were they funny.  I'm not sure I'll make a best friend there but I will definitely be getting together with them again.

My next experience was with the church mamas. I had been in contact by email with the group organizer and was incredibly excited to meet these women.  I had tons of fun with the online group but was ready to get involved with a faith based group.  Now, granted, we met up at a kids museum/play place, which we all know can be chaotic and not necessarily the best place for getting to know people, but I was astounded. When I walked up to the group in the parking lot, no one spoke to me, that is until I was introduced by the organizer.  I chalked this up to the fact we met in the parking lot and maybe they thought I was standing in the wrong place.  Plus, I didn't speak to them either...touche.  But surprisingly, once inside, any connections made were initiated by me. These women are kind, I'm sure, they're great mom's, absolutely no doubt, and once I spoke to as many as I could, they were friendly and even welcoming.  And I will give it another chance because I truly believe they meant no harm.  But what if I had a different, quieter personality?  I would have been ignored. 

Why is it that the group with no church/religious or even spiritual affiliation was more friendly and welcoming?  My mom said to me a few days ago, "people in a bar are more welcoming than people in a church."

Ouch.

That.is.heart.breaking.

And moms, women, ladies, that won't change unless we change it.

WE HAVE TO CHANGE.

If you're a believer, and you belong to any sort of group, whether affiliated with your church or not, recognize this issue.  No. Don't recognize it.  Tackle it.  Solve it.

End it.

I have this theory. I believe it's true for moms but I'd go as far to say it's true for most women.  We're scared. Scared of being criticized.  Scared of being judged.  Worried we just won't measure up. So we don't reach outward, we hunker inward. I read these words from Beth Moore recently, “We will never be secure until we realize we are fully loved by God, no matter our failings.”

Read it again. This time with my emphasis

“We will never be secure until we realize we are fully loved by God, no matter our failings.” 

So what if your kid had a donut for breakfast.  At least he ate.

So what if you were on your cell phone for most of your child's field trip.  At least you showed up.




You've kept the kids alive.  That's nothing to sneeze at.

This is what I'm saying.  God loves you, fully, no matter your failings. And that's all that matters.  What are you afraid of?

Talk to the new person. She needs you to.  And you might find out, you need her too.



p.s. I must tell you, in actuality, I have met someone. A friend. She's in fact a neighbor to my realtor. And she reached out to me. When I had no clue who she was. She has two beautiful children and an even more beautiful spirit. And I heart her. And if she's reading this, "Hi friend, I'm thankful for you. And know, you're welcome to drink a strawberita with me anytime!"

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Nomads no more

Hello there lovees! I can finally breathe again.  For a little while I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest and my brain at the same time.

 

I considered it a success if I opened my eyes in the morning and remembered where I was. 

Remember the house I posted a picture of in my last ramblings? ( We didn't buy it. Not one teeny tiny inch of it.  Not even the poop colored counter tops.  It didn't appraise.  Not just the counter tops, but the whole house.  Came in 30k less than our offer. 

Alas, we were homeless. AGAIN.

We gave up looking for a house to buy and decided to build our own.  We bought some land, we contracted a builder.  We were told August was to be the completion date.  So now what?  If I can still count correctly that's 5 months we gotta find a roof over our heads.

After calling every rental listing from craigslist to your momma's house, we finally found a townhouse willing to rent to us short term doberman owning tenants.  We were to move in the first week of April.  And with that we packed our bags and headed to NC for Easter.  That was March 25th.

On March 26th, the very next day, my realtor calls.  "So hey, you know the house you walked through, in the neighborhood you're building in, the one you saw as an example of what you're building?  Yea well the guy who was under contract on that house, his financing fell through, today. You wanna buy it?  You can close April 25th."

Ummm...hold on...let me call my husband...I don't even remember what that house looked like...we can buy it for the same amount we were going to build for? Are you speaking English?

Yea so long story short we did just that.  We bought the house Charles (I got some of his mail, so we're on a first name basis now) built but could not buy.  I'm considering putting a "This is the house that Charles built" sign above our front door.  Classy?  I think so.

After our Easter week in NC Husband R and doberman Bo Bo headed back to the lake house to wait out the time before closing and Toddling A and I adventured across the east coast, from NC to VA to WV to MD and all the way back to GA again.  We were gone for just shy of 30 days.  Hence the trouble remembering where I was when I woke up.  You try sleeping in the same bed with a toddler for a month.  You'd be lost too.

So all that I wrote about being thankful and seeing God's hand in this process?  It's still true.  If not even more true than before.  It kind of feels like we kept grabbing these homes and God kept slapping our hands away.  We finally got  our fingers around one, we were holding on tight, and God took it away for the 4th time.  I was frustrated, sure.  Confused? Absolutely.

But there was and is beauty from ashes.  This beauty to be exact.  We just had to find it, or should I say it had to find us.

So we're in.  No longer homeless. 

Unpacking.... now that's a whole 'nother story.

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One Thousand Gifts

Well herrroooo,

I guess I should say Happy New Year!  I am in awe that it's been 2 months since I've written to you lovely people.  I hope the beginning of 2013 has been kind to you. Also, happy merry lent season for those of you who practice it.  I asked Husband R if he was giving anything up for lent to which he replied, "North Carolina."  He's a sassy one he is.

But alas, we have given up NC and are officially Georgians.  When I explained to Toddling A that we were moving to Georgia she said "I not like that boy."  Someone takes after her dad.

Anyways, I have a lot to say to you and my fingers are too cold to want to say them.  I thought GA was warm.  Apparently not. It's also rainy.  Does anyone else feel like it's rained entirely too much as of late?  The sun'll come out tomorrow, you can bet your bottom dollar.  I haven't checked the forecast for tomorrow but I'm not betting my bottom dollar, then who will pay my heat bill if I'm wrong?

God is good all the time.  Did you know that?  I mean like all the time.  Even in the rain.  And the cold.  He's still good.

Let me list to you my reasons as of late to prove to you He is indeed good, and faithful, and just and loving.  This might be a long list.  And that's a very good thing. 

1. We listed our house on Sunday it sold on Tues.  For the math challenged, the house was under contract in 3 days.  What was the offer?  1k less than list price and no closing costs needed. Say what? It's true. 


2. Part of the reason it went under contract is because I have snazzy, fancy friends who let us borrow all their nice and fancy things to stage our home.  I mean top to bottom, furniture, decor, candles.  All not mine all used to make the house pretty.  And it worked.

3. We had these windows.  These double paned windows.  That had this sort of seal in between those panes.  Those seals got lost.  I looked everywhere.  And condensation and foggy stuff crept in.  Windows are expensive.  Certainly the prospective buyer will want money or windows replaced. How about no.  How about that buyer only asked for a $500 credit be applied to closing costs. 

4.  The real estate market is poor to say the least.  We listed our house higher than any other house in the neighborhood had previously sold for.  My realtor was nervous about the appraisal.  The buyer's agent didn't think the house would appraise. My realtor who originally sold me the house was even doubtful.  I was prepared for bad news.  It appraised. Exactly for the list price.

You still there?  Are you seeing a pattern?  Good.  Because it keeps going.

5. The appraisal came back a week before our closing date.  That means a week before we were to turn over our keys to the new owner, we had no place to live. I had people offering us a place to stay.  It was that bad.  I called corporate housing and short term apartment people.  It's expensive, say 2k more than our mortgage.  Plus lots of money to cover our apparently scary and dangerous dog.  Have you met him?  So I google.  And google some more.  Are shelter's out of the question?  Then, out of the blue, a vacation rental company pops up.  A 4 bedroom lake house, available, in the off season. Cheaper than corporate housing and short term apartments.  And the management are some of the nicest people I've ever done business with.  Yes, I'm writing you from lakefront property.  Beats an apartment hands down everytime.

6.  We had seen probably 35 houses by the time we moved into our lovely rental.  And I looked at 5 more the Thurs after we had arrived.  Nothing.  We even raised our price 10k.  Houses either didn't have yards or were too old or had funky smelly things growing in them or they cost too much.  Really. I gave up at least 3 times.  Did I mention it either rained or snowed every time we looked?  Think I'm lying?  I was looking for houses during a tornado warning.  My realtor she's a champ.  Concluding we're not meant to buy a house just yet,  Husband R and I set a deadline, a week away, if we don't find anything by then we rent something for 6 months. Bleh, okay. Saturday I'm back at it.  Spur of the moment kind of deal.  The last house we see at 4:30pm, could this be it?  It doesn't have a fence.  The kitchen counter tops are the color of poop. I'm not joking.  And it's acrylic paint. Who does that?

But in every other way, it's exactly what we're looking for.  Spacious, move in ready, minus those two things that can be fixed.  Husband R drives from the lake house, an hour away to to see it.  This better be it or I'm in trouble.  Toddling A arrives and has to actually poop.  It's probably the counter tops giving her the idea.  She does so in the half bath, that has to be a sign we're home.  We offer. 8k less than asking price. And we want the refrigerator and a home warranty and 3k in closing costs.  We wait.  And wait.  And wait.  24 hrs go by.  No word.  This can't be good news. Hopefully they're working up a counter offer, I mean we did ask for the cake and icing too.  Phone rings.  Our offer has been accepted.  No questions asked. No counter. You've got to be kidding me.  Happy, happy dance.  Hooorays all around!  We went from possibly having to buy a house we could barely afford to facing renting for 6 months to actually buying a house that will have a lesser mortgage than our house in Charlotte.  Here she is.  I heart her.

Time to get honest. I did not happily float, skip or even glide through this process.  There was doubt.  There were tears.  Gray hair and fever blisters.  Sleepless nights. Yelling.  But one thing that I noticed.  That is different from stressful times in my life before.  I could see God's hand.  Actually SEE it.  Times before, I'd get to the other side of a life event and look back and say, "Wow, God really knew what he was doing." Or "I can really see how God brought all of that together."  But this time, I saw him during the decision making. I felt his presence and his words and his guidance the entire time.  And on those days when I was drowning in doubt or pity He always brought me back.  Sometimes with his word, sometimes through other people and most times through prayer.

We prayed. Out loud. Together. Many times. Because you see, I read this "Up to this time you have not asked a [single] thing in My Name [as presenting all that I AM]; but now ask and keep on asking and you will receive, so that your joy (gladness, delight) may be full and complete. John 16:24"

And after the 35th house it struck me.  Husband R and I had prayed for the home selling process, but together we had not united to pray for the home buying process.  So we did.  It wasn't fancy.  It wasn't dramatic.  We just asked in His name.  And the next day we found it.

I know God answers every prayer.  Sometimes the answer is no.  Sometimes the answer is wait.  And a lot of times the answer isn't really even what we were hoping for.  But try to see his hand guiding you.  Ask him to help you understand his ways.  Thank him.  It's extremely hard to be upset at your circumstances if your in a constant state of thankfulness.  I promise. 

On one of my trips to house hunt, before we had moved, and had to come stay in a hotel and Toddling A and I had to look for houses while Husband R worked, on one of those trips, we literally ran out of houses to see.  But it was only 3:30 and Husband R didn't finish until 5 and Toddling A and I had no where to go.  My champ realtor says we can hang out with her while she finishes up some other work and we'll head back to her office to see if any new listings had showed up.  It's like a 30 min drive so toddling A falls asleep.  I opt to hang out in the car, in the parking lot of my realtor's office so Toddling A can sleep. Fingers crossed she doesn't pee in her seat.  We're still not out of the woods on bladder control while sleeping.  So here I am, sitting in someone's car with my toddler snoozing and probably peeing and nothing to do but sit and wait and hope and fret.  Then the sun came out.  I rolled down the windows.  It warmed up.  I couldn't get any wi-fi for my kindle so I was forced to read.  And read I did.  About thankfulness.  About how even in death Jesus was thankful. 

In her book One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp writes

"“On the night when he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took some bread and gave thanks to God for it. Then he broke it in pieces …” (1 Corinthians 11: 23— 24, emphasis added). Jesus, on the night before the driving hammer and iron piercing through ligament and sinew, receives what God offers as grace, the germ of His thanksgiving? Oh. Facing the abandonment of God Himself (does it get any worse than this?), Jesus offers thanksgiving for even that which will break Him and crush Him and wound Him and yield a bounty of joy."

So as I sat in the car and read that, me who is not facing abandonment, who has been receiving God's blessings since this whole crazy uprooting thing began, started thanking God.  I thanked him for the sun.  Thanked him for my realtor, for Avery, for the money to even buy a house, for a husband who provides.  I just kept going.  And going.  And I stopped worrying.  And of course as the days went on and house was still yet to be found worry crept back in.  But I tried to focus on being thankful.  And on praising God.

And no, this season is not over, and really, is hardship ever over?  Will things always go swimmingly? I'd bet my bottom dollar that it wont.  But here's the thing. I'm learning and I'm growing and I'm keeping my eyes on Jesus.  I'm figuring out how to be content. And I'm realizing I'm loved.  And prayer works. 

And painting your counter tops a poop color brown/green is a very bad idea.

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