We Are Moving- The Long Story

 The short story is that we are moving into a house which we could never afford. It’s a miracle! We thought it would be years longer before we could own a home. And we really expected it to be a fixer upper mobile home- which we were fully content with. But it’s happening and soon! We are mostly walking around stunned by the whole thing.

Long story:

The first book I remember my mom reading to me was Hinds Feet in High Places. I remember being fascinated by it. I thought Little Miss Much Afraid was an absolute ninny. Seriously get your act together, woman. Grow a spine. But this house story really comes down to me being my own version of Little Miss Much Afraid. Scared of everything, doubting everything, a broken record of fears.

We could rent for the rest of our lives and be just fine. Home ownership isn’t a human right and isn’t a matter of life or death. But it is a means to an end. It could help us retire one day, and help us provide an inheritance for our children. It would give us more security. And we’d be able to have a garden, plant a tree, get a cat, etc and not worry about landlords freaking out. 

And, my biggest dream of all, it would be a stepping stone toward owning property one day and having Aaron’s parents live with us. This is in my top five things that I want most in life. So when I look at houses, the houses are great and all, but it’s that future dream that gives my heart a real squeeze.

We have tried buying three times in the last few years and were stopped before we really got started. House prices are BONKERS, and even with two incomes and a frugal lifestyle, it just wasn’t possible.

A little rewind now. 

Daphne was born two years ago. Her birth was so hard and took me about a year to recover from physically. When she was around 3 months old or so, postpartum depression hit me super hard. It was hard to get out of bed. It was hard to love my family. I am typically rational, but this was not rational at all. Suicide seemed the only escape from a dark world without joy. I carried a suicide letter with me every day for two years. Just in case I could not fight that urge one day. I said a gut wrenching goodbye to my girls every single day. I filled one chatbook after another with photos and letters to them so they would have something to remember me by. Each night I would go to bed saying,”I lived this day. Tomorrow I might not.” I writhed in fear and confusion and turmoil. Some days my brain snapping to the point of mindless screaming and screaming and hitting myself uncontrollably. My rational brain could say,”This isn’t me. This is hormones. You’ve read all the things. You’ve researched. This is severe postpartum depression and you need to call a dr for help.” But my fearful brain could not release. My fearful brain sat with me in the hospital parking lot telling me “do not walk thru those doors. Turn around and go home.” So I did.

One day at the beginning of this depression, I heard that a young wife and mother, who I had known in my childhood, had lost her husband. He drowned right in front of her and their children and friends. I was holding Daphne in my arms and was just drooping in exhaustion and worry. I felt so terribly heartbroken for this girl who had served the Lord for her entire life. I felt like I couldn’t bear it. And if I could not bear it, then how could she? How could God forsake her in this way? I looked at Daphne sleeping in my arms and thought,”How can I tell my children that God will care for them? We have no way of knowing that He will. God could allow some terrible person to take my children from me this day and rape them to death. It happens to innocent children every day.” And I could not shake that thought or that image from my mind. 

I would pray and ask the Lord for sleep. Sleep to help my brain function better. Sleep to help me be a better mom. A prayer that God did not answer. Instead of sleep, I got less and less sleep. And chronic sleep deprivation is a real mind killer. A goodbye to sanity. I could not understand how God could not fulfill this one simple request even tho He could clearly see that I was a horrible person and a horrible mother without sleep. Ask and ye shall receive was no longer true to me.

The Bible says to build your house upon a Rock. A firm foundation. I have never felt shaken from that Rock. Never once. But during this time I felt that foundation shatter beneath my feet and I was drowning in sinking sand. Doubts, fear, worry, and so much bitterness. So much anger. God, who I loved so much, had forsaken me and everyone else. We were all deceived into thinking He cared one wit. 

I grieved so much over this loss. I remember thinking that I had never actually realized how much my love for the Lord meant to me. I had taken it for granted. But now that this all important relationship felt severed, I felt lost and drifting. I felt that life had no meaning. Everything was empty. I could not think of God without heartache. And then anger. I thought of every hurt I had inflicted on other people and every hurt other people had inflicted on me and I simmered in bitter anger. I thought of every person I knew who was crying out to God for help. I viewed the entire world thru a lens of suffering. The whole earth aching and crying out for help, but the suffering of all continues on and on. Why did God even create us if He knew He would just allow all this suffering to happen?

I ordered books on doubting God and having a faith crisis. I would pray and ask God before reading my Bible,”Please show me something today. Anything to help restore my faith.” And then I’d read how God destroyed the earth and wiped out nations and little babies being dashed on rocks. And I could feel angry questions rising up. And a loss of any hope.

In the meantime, I decided to try a handful of daily practices to pull myself up. I started walking every day with the girls in spite of the deep desire to stay in bed. I started going to the gym. I started hiking with Rachel every week. I  set the house every morning for calm- lighting, music, candles. To get me in the mindset of peace. And this really did help me a lot which I am so thankful for. After a year or so, I started to see some light thru the depression. A few more months went by with steady improvement. And by Daphne’s second birthday I was able to take the suicide letter out of my purse without fear. But this did not increase my faith. I really thought it would so it was devastating to me that this did not trigger some sort of spiritual renewal. I asked God to please push the magic button. There had to be a button somewhere that could help me trust God again. Find the button, God, and push it. Only You know where and what this button is.

And now the house: A big part of my job is to care for my employer’s very beloved dog. I have taken care of her every day for nearly 14 years. And in all those years my boss has been incredibly kind and generous with me. When I became disabled from narcolepsy, he bent over backward to accommodate my needs. When I had two kids and difficult pregnancies, he did not flinch at the amount of work I could no longer do, but instead continued to give me a job and paychecks. He has been truly so kind to me.

A month ago his dog had to be put down. I sat at the vet with him as she passed and just sobbed my guts out. Four days later he called me to say he wanted to get a very particular German Shepherd that he’s wanted for years. My landlords said no to this. Which is understandable- a German Shepherd can cause a lot of wear and tear. I let my boss know that I could not do this arrangement. I was a little bit relieved because a huge dog in our tiny house is overwhelming. But I was also pretty worried because this is my job on the line. 

Two hours later he called me back and offered to help us buy a house. He owns a house building company so it would be one of his houses. And it’s so far out of our reach financially! I could NOT believe what I was hearing. He said a lot of things which I only half heard because I was mentally saying,”What? WHAT. What??? Whaaaaaat???”

I spent the next two weeks putting Little Miss Much Afraid to shame. I was SO worried. Everyone else was excited. But I thought only of what could go wrong. Worst case scenario. Anything that could go wrong would no doubt go wrong. I made myself genuinely sick with worry. I requested a meeting with my boss to go over details, and I planned lots of questions. One hour before meeting with him, at peak fear, I finally poured out to God that I did not believe He would take care of us. I had not believed that for two years. I wanted to trust Him, but I could not and felt so very alone and scared of all the worst things. “Please, please push the magic button before I go talk to my boss. Please help me to have faith and be calm about this.” But He did not, and I went to that meeting in as much fear as ever.

When Aaron and I finally sat down with my boss at a local coffee shop, all of my planned conversation flew out of my head and instead I really just poured out my fears. We have no money so how will this work? I am disabled so how can you offer this to me when you could get anyone else to do the job better than I can? What if what if what if?? My boss was SO kind. Extraordinarily generous and thoughtful and laid every fear to rest. He laid out the whole house buying plan, repeating himself over and over when I asked more questions. He then turned to Aaron and asked a few questions about his work and thru that conversation Aaron told him how he and his brother are hoping to go into business together in HVAC. My boss tilted his head and explained that he would be very interested in helping them start that business in the next few months. He explained that he had been looking for an HVAC company to work with, and, if Aaron and Alex could get a business plan together, he would help them get it started and give them enough work to be stable. It would change our lives even more than the house would, and it would change Alex and Lizzie’s lives.

And then he said the magic button words. I don’t mean to belittle the importance of this moment by saying “magic button”, those are just the words I mentally use for this and I mean it sincerely. 

“I want to do this to help you, Aaron, and to help your brother. I like seeing people start their own businesses. And it will help me too. But the main thing, my priority here, is that Sunny is taken care of. And you starting your own business will increase your income and then I will know that she is taken care of.”

It felt like my boss, Aaron, and the coffee shop kind of faded from the room when he said that. The words hung in the air. The very thing I had said to God 1.5 hrs before “I do not believe you will take care of me.” It was a reply. I will take care of you. You have always been taken care of. Uncertainty will always be a part of life, but one thing is certain- you are taken care of.

Nothing is finalized so maybe the house and the business will fall thru. I don’t believe that will happen, but I suppose it could. I would definitely be disappointed by that. But for the past week I have woken up every day thankful and have gone to bed every night thankful. For the past week I have thought about those words every day: Taken care of. And I know it doesn’t mean no more suffering or worries, it means taken care of. 

All I have to offer to God in return is a thank you.