Upon the Selling of Our House

Regards to Anne Bradstreet for her poem, Upon the Burning of Our House, which most of us read in American Literature (or maybe you didn’t, but I was that kid who definitely read all of her homework assignments, don’t hate). As I sat down to spend time with the Lord today (and to be sweetly and consistently interrupted by Eli J, the Lego-engineer-in-training), all I could think about what was the phrase, “Upon the selling of our house.” Upon the selling of our house, how thankful we were. Upon the selling of our house, how much confidence grew in the boy’s hearts that God is indeed exactly who He says He is.

It had been a long and emotionally trying process for me (and when something is emotionally trying for me, the boys are brought in, as we are together all the time!) and a wrestling in prayer for our whole family. The boys and I were walking around at Furman by the Bell Tower, looking at ducks and playing to get through the nearly-dinner hour of grumpiness. G’Joe called to say that we had a contract on our house, and I will never forget the boys’ responses. Ty shouted out loud, totally spontaneously and unprompted, “God answered our prayers!” with a grin words cannot capture on his face. Eli J did this silly dance he does and started skipping. We all stopped to pray and thank the Lord for His timely answer (which had been feeling untimely and late up until that very moment). In a moment, all the waiting was worth it.

It was sweet of the Lord to remind me of those moments this morning, as we are in another emotionally-trying season of waiting on housing. This time we are waiting to buy a house. I think the boys are handling this whole thing so much better than me.  I hear theirsweet little trusting prayers every night about “God help

Daddy find us the right house” (they seem to think that every time G is out of town, he is in San Diego house-hunting) and am challenged by their simple trust. They are not overly anxious or frustrated that we haven’t heard back on two offers for weeks, they are simply excited that God is going to save the perfect house for us.

I have so much to learn about waiting. Not just waiting, but waiting expectantly and patiently and longingly. And for a moment this morning, the Lord allowed me to want to stay by the still waters of silence from realtors and the green pastures of the in-between until He says it’s His time to move on. Not because we love the in-between, but because He is our shepherd, and He is near. His rod and His staff comfort us, and His nearness is our good, not a house, not answers, not a contract.

Now if I could just believe this for the rest of the day. And tomorrow. Until He sees fit to move us!

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