Gifts and growing

When people ask me how I like my new house, my answer is, "We're learning to get along." I'm not sure I can explain it any better than that, but I'll try.

The weeds are finally pulled from the yard, at least the 2-foot tall ones. There is some grass seed we are watering in the front. A couple of trees will find residence in the back yard this week. And we are going to cover the icky back deck with a plastic coating.

Inside, we have fewer boxes and more order. And internet access.

But the sweetest blessings lately have been the gifts God is bringing to our daughter, as her love for Him increases. She is discovering things like, "Mom, did you know that if you make time for the Bible every day, you have plenty of time to do everything else?" and "The more I give to God, the more He gives back!" This morning after church, I saw her make a beeline to a new couple, to make sure they were greeted. She knows what it's like to be ignored.

And the blessings have been pouring in. A crib with Mickey Mouse sheets and a mobile. Two high chairs, one with a fancy fish-themed play area attached. Hand-knit and hand-quilted blankets. Twice as many baby boy clothes in size 0-9 months as one boy could possibly wear, enough to give some away to another single mom, along with two of the blankets and some smaller sized maternity clothes.

Then came a rocking chair that exactly matched the red and black theme in Amanda's room. A cash gift that paid off her credit card bill completely. A bassinet with heart-beat and water sounds.

Our Sunday School class has planned a baby shower for her in about a month.


Somebody loves her. I think He loves her a lot.

It's a House

When we started this home-buying adventure, we looked at a lot of funky houses, because they were in our price range. Most of them had memorable features, like a circular staircase (no, I can't go down that 3 or 4 times a night to get to the only bathroom!), or a steep driveway (it's icy here more months than not), or no driveway (just park down at Safeway and walk up the hill!?). One had a trap door in the deck. One had the only bathroom in between the bedrooms, no access from the living area. Some were in scary areas where the police would become your new best friend. One was next to an adult shop. One had extension cords coming out of windows and trailing to all the outbuildings. One had a circular couch sunk into the living room, perfect for drug parties, along with some interesting sky-lighted, growing rooms. Some had huge yards (we would need a goat) and some had no yard (hey, I can see from our bathroom window right into their kitchen).

And then we found "our" house. It had a picket fence with lilacs growing on it, a low-maintenance oasis in the back yard, and fun features in the house, like a rock fireplace. It was homey and had a view over the city and the mountain range. The neighborhood was quiet. But the bank turned it down because it needed too much fixing up of functional things like the roof and walls and floor. They just couldn't see the charm it oozed.

And they told me what kind of house they would finance. I knew immediately what houses those were; we had looked at them a few months earlier. They are new, and the builder was trying to short-sale them. But he wouldn't take less than $115k for them, and that was just out of our price range. Mostly, they are just squares, but one of them had a little charm - a kitchen window overlooking barns and fields, and a triangular back yard.

Garry looked around town for something else, but finally came back to those houses. The triangular one had been sold already. The builder had lost them to the bank, and they were in foreclosure. There were four squares left, and the cheapest one was at the top of our price range, $105k.

I pretty much shrugged and told him to do what he thought was best. I didn't even go look at it. He brought me papers on my lunch hour and I signed them in the car, putting an offer on the house. I knew - we're going to get this one. What I felt was resignation.

Throughout this process (and yes, we are buying that house), I have seen God work, and I have delighted in seeing His hand in this. I know it's where He wants us. There hasn't been a single glitch. It's been "ask and you will receive" at every corner. The realtor fixed two holes in the wall and found a free door handle to replace a broken one. When the stock market took a big dip, we locked in a low rate (4.375%). Even our insurance is cheaper than anyone thought possible, because we have been with Safeco for a long time and they gave us a great rate. This is the house God wants us in.

My head knows it well, and I am grateful. But at the same time, I am sad. There is no charm. It's just a bigger apartment. The vinyl siding will never need to be painted. The kitchen is laid out in a straight line, literally. Left to right, refrigerator, dishwasher, sink, stove. I am sure that a creative person would see it as a blank slate, ready for splashes of color and interesting features. Maybe one of them will help me.

The yard is a nice size, but absolutely barren, nothing but weeds and dirt. The kitchen window looks out at the sideyard and fence. Maybe I can get an ocean mural painted on the fence.

I'm sorry to complain. This house is exactly what we need. It's exactly a mile from Garry's school. It doesn't need repairs, except for the yard. It has three bedrooms and two bathrooms and a two-car garage.

I pray that some day it will have some charm, and feel like home.

Grief

Have you ever studied, or at least been told, the stages of grief?

1. Denial - shock, numbness

2. Anger - coupled with pain, and directed everywhere

3. Bargaining - What if, If only, sometimes with tinges of guilt

4. Depression - Emptiness, sorrow, the loss settling into your soul

5. Acceptance - this is the new normal

Sometimes I go through the stages in a hurry, like when we lost house #1, with it's oasis back yard. It was less than 24 hours, but I went through it all.

"No way! God wants us to have this house!"

"I can't believe God let us spend $425 on a house He had no intention of giving us!"

"It can still work out. We just have to have more faith, be willing to invest more, and then we'll get the house."

"It's over. I'm sad. I don't want another house. I'll just rent. Forever."

"Wow. It's really over. Someone else will sit in my oasis."

But when my baby girl told me she was pregnant, the grief stages were much, much longer. Days. Weeks. People are telling me now they are "impressed" with how I am handling this, but you have to know, she was only 5 weeks pregnant when she told me. She was 20 weeks when we told anyone. I had 15 weeks of the grief process, and I didn't talk about it much.

I denied it. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she just has the flu.

I got angry. At my daughter for having sex. At the young man who fathered this child. At myself for only teaching her abstinance and nothing about birth control. At Dr. Ezzo and the church for teaching us "how to tell your children about sex" without ever telling them about sex. At God for not preventing the pregnancy.

I bargained. I begged God to fix the situation. Not to cause a miscarriage, but to save the baby daddy so they could get married.

And then I cried. And cried. And cried. Work was difficult that week, because anyone asking, "How are you?" and wanting anything more than, "Fine," made me cry. I ate. I didn't eat. I exercised. I stopped exercising. Nothing made the pain deep inside me go away. Disappointment, fear, doubt, and sadness ruled me.

And then one day, the cloud lifted. I watched the ultrasound, and that was a real baby in there. He waved and opened his mouth and kicked his little legs. And suddenly, it's a baby. There is a little guy in there who needs a family and love and education. He needs hugs and playing and walks in the park. He needs a grandma. He needs me.

I forgave my daughter, the baby daddy, myself. I realized that God was in all of it, and He made this little life. This little guy has a hope, a future. And for a little while, I get to be a part of raising him. He won't be raised perfectly, any more than I was, any more than my kids were. But God will be in it all.

We're having a baby!

Lessons from Lazarus

I'm reading Seventh Day, by Bodie Thoene. It's basically the story of Mary, Martha, and their brother Lazarus, who were friends of Jesus. They were sometimes His hosts, when He was near Jerusalem.

And then Lazarus got sick, very sick. Mary and Martha KNEW Jesus could heal their brother, because they had seen Him heal so many others. He just had to say the word, even from a distance. So they sent Him word that Lazarus, "the one you love," was ill.

They were asking for a miracle, in complete faith. Jesus had done this before; they had seen it with their own eyes. And He was their friend, so of course He would do the same for them. Total faith.

I have done that a few times in recent months. I've seen other people's lives changed in this way or that, and God glorified from it, so why not mine, too? I've asked, believing.

Most recently, I could plainly see how it was amazing that our offer on a short sale home was accepted. I could clearly see us settling into that beautiful oasis of a back yard for years to come. Evenings in lawn chairs, with a breeze rustling the leaves overhead, and maybe a little koi pond nearby, with a waterfall. The house would provide for our needs; the yard would be food for the soul.

And then...

Mary and Martha tended to their sick brother, and he died. What? How? Noooo.... The tears, the questions, the anger. Waiting until the last moment to wrap his body, because even now Jesus could bring life back into this dear man. And finally, acceptance. Wrapping the body. A public burial. The whole town knew that these friends of Jesus were abandoned by Him in their time of need. He healed others, but (they probably speculated) when His life was threatened by local authorities, He was too cowardly to return to heal His friend. Oh, the things they doubtless said about Jesus!

And Jesus, from a distance, tells those with Him that this is for God's glory. That Lazarus has indeed died, but this is for your benefit.

No, you didn't get that house with that oasis yard that you thought you wanted. The deal died. But this is for God's glory and your benefit.

Four days. Lazarus had been in the tomb four days when Jesus walked up the dusty road into town. "If you had been here, my brother would not have died." "It's too late now. His body stinks." "If only you had been here."

If He had healed Lazarus before he died, only those closest to the family would have believed it. But because they had gone through the public mourning, the whole town knew about Jesus' power. "Lazarus, come forth!"

I don't know what is next for us. But aparently we aren't supposed to sit in our own little oasis and sip iced tea. I think maybe I was trying to skip ahead to Heaven. We still have work to do here. May God be glorified.

Now, About That Picket Fence...

The last few days, I have pretty much let Garry do all the house-hunting, while I sat around with my fingers in my ears, singing, "La la la la la...." so I couldn't hear him. He talked to a couple of realtors and picked one. He looked at several houses and showed me pictures. He examined new options for mortgage financing.

And today he told me he would like to put an offer on a house. It's one we saw months ago and really liked, and now the price has come down, putting it in our range. That sounds good to me.

I like it that he is pursuing this. I'm going to not interfere, and sign on the dotted line, unless something really bothers me.

Maybe there is a picket fence in my future still. Maybe. Though we might have to build it ourselves.

At the Crossroads

"This is what the LORD says:
'Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.'" (Jeremiah 1:16a)

We are standing at a crossroad, again. The bank said they wouldn't loan on the house we had chosen. So we are once again wondering if we are buying or renting.

"Stand at the crossroads and look." Look at the options. Stand still for a moment and look. Don't just blunder on through. Pause. Observe.

"Ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is." What has God done in the past? What do godly people do in this situation? What do your trusted friends and family say? One person tells us to not buy a house because Jesus is returning soon. Others say that this is a great time in this economy to be a buyer. Ask for advice. Look around at what God's people are doing.

Now "walk in it." Take a step. Make a move. Try something and see. Follow good advice. Don't keep throwing a stick in the air, waiting for it to point the way you want to go. And don't be like the people in the end of this verse, who say, "We will not walk in it."

"And you will find rest for your souls." Peace. Deep down in your soul, peace. Peace that passes understanding.

Baby pictures

I could talk about the loss of the picket fence we were looking to buy... but I'm not ready yet.

Instead, let me show you pictures of the baby. They do 3-D pictures in the womb, and these are amazing to me. You can see the little guy's arms and legs and nose and chin. He looks like an old man to me! Or maybe a monkey...

But I'm sure he's a baby. Pretty sure.

We were sort of hoping for a pony.