As I wrote the title for this post, God gently reminded me that He is forever showing up, only sometimes I don’t notice.
This time I noticed.
We put our house on the market about 4 weeks ago. In the back of my mind hovered the debacle of the last time our house was on sale. 100 days, 110 showings. 3 children 5 -and-under. I was a crazy woman. Sam was all for putting some firm parameters on our move this time: just till June 1, he said, and then we can stop. But I had a strong sense that this move is a really good thing for our family: for Sam’s vocation, for opportunities to minister as a family, for schooling as we move forward, for other various and sundry family reasons… so I was ready to keep going to make it happen.
Three weeks ago we put the Stuffies on the Black Bus. The children have been asking when the bus tour will be done. Some grumbling was heard.
Last week, we found a house. It’s less than a mile from library, grocery store, and multiple parks. 11 minutes (by car) from Sam’s work and my job. It’s zoned for chickens. We prayed and slept on it overnight and we both convinced that it was the right house. The next morning we called to place a contract, and someone else had already put down earnest money. Sam was crushed.
My heart wouldn’t let go of that house, and all weekend I prayed about it– for release, if this wasn’t the right house. For provision. For eyes to see the way forward and ears to hear. For faith to hang on, if this was right. Our realtor called to say that the other buyers were scheduled to sign the contract at 3 pm but she would call after just in case.
Tuesday afternoon we had a showing. They came early (ack!) and were talking on the porch while I was struggling to drag the sandy children out of the sandbox so the realtor could show the house. While we were at my friend’s house, the realtor called to say that the other buyers hadn’t shown up at the contract signing, and the new house was ours if we wanted it.
Wednesday night, after signing a contract on the new house, she called back to say that we had an offer on this house. To close July 3.
All this happened the night before the Black Bus was supposed to be done with its 4 week tour of the world. And two days before Sam’s mental deadline.
I’m not a big fan of setting deadlines for God. (Or for anyone, really.) But in this case, not only did he give us exactly what we thought we needed and wanted, but he did it in a time frame we could understand. I am hard-headed, but even I can understand that this sale and move is not happening by my effort, or because I got the floor clean or the bed made. I am so grateful for God’s provision, and for the gift to see it as such. Thanks for praying with me in this time, friends!