We made an offer on a house a few weeks ago. It’s not a big deal for some, but it is a pretty big deal for us. When my husband bought our house, we were still dating, and I was only involved enough to say, “Yes, I would be happy to live here with you,” as any in-love girlfriend would say.
We have lived in that same house for 16 years now. The “new house” shininess wore off early for me. I have learned a lot in the process of living in a home I don’t love. A LOT. I could fill books with what I have learned by living here. But that’s not the topic for today.
A few years ago, my husband realized that he didn’t enjoy living in the project house his creative mind had once envisioned as nothing short of amazing. I have no doubt his dreams and pictures and drawings would turn out to be fabulous. However, when some dreams come crashing into real life, they find themselves crushed under the weight of responsibility, marriage, children, and work. We agreed together that our goal is to move out of this house and find something that can better meet both our needs and fit our growing family as well. (Growing in age, not number. No more babies here, which is both sad and a relief.)
In the calm and craziness of 2020, my husband saw a house on the market that interested him. I had stopped looking at that point. It was becoming more depressing than hope-giving, so I quit. I had no idea he was looking, but he ended up mentioning it. We arranged a tour, and we’re surprised by how much we both liked it. BOTH. I don’t know how it works in your marriage, but we don’t often agree on a home. I’m of the “get me out of here into anything else” school of thought, and he is more of the “could I live here the rest of my life” guy. Just a bit different we are.
Before we were able to get our home ready to list, that house sold. I occasionally drove by (it’s completely out of the way), remembering the dreams that were born as we walked through and wondering if another home could hold the same dreams.
A few weeks ago on a Thursday night, a text popped up that this home was once again for sale. My mind was spinning as I drove home to tell my husband. We checked into it, and offers were due on Monday morning at 10 AM. So I spent the weekend applying and getting a pre-approval so we could make an offer.
We placed our offer on Monday morning. Late that afternoon, I heard from our realtor that we didn’t get the house. It wasn’t our price but the conditions of the sale for which we were rejected. We are disappointed. We trust God, but it’s definitely not easy to see what He is doing right now.
I haven’t gotten into any real details here, but let me just say this isn’t the only area of waiting and uncertainty in our lives. We have prayed for a long time for a home and for some other big things that have yet to resolve. Every day is an exercise in trust, in faith that He will provide in His way and His time.
“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.”
1 Peter 5:6-7 ESV
I used to sing “Cast All My Cares” to my kids every night; now only my youngest will request it. We will cast our cares, throw them out like casting a fishing rod. We don’t have to hang on to them. Many times we can’t do anything about the things that make us anxious, anyway. So we cast them onto Him. He is more than able to take them and give back to us His peace and comfort.
Angela Gidley 