A Home to Heal

At the end of July we closed on our new house. A process in the works since January because it was a new build—I’m happy it’s over. This is the third house we’ve bought (and lived in), the third house we’ve built but the first built house we’ve moved into.

We’ve done the home buying process many times and the other two times we’ve tried to build it fell through. One house fell through before the final walk through and I had to complete it knowing it wouldn’t be ours. That one hurt. A lot. I cried. For days. But life moved and I moved with it. We eventually found a house already built and that was that. But a year later we would have to short sale that house to avoid a full foreclosure. When my husband first started his business it was a rough time. The house was a casualty of those growing pains. After that experience I said we would rent forever. I never wanted to go back through the home buying process because it brought up too many sad memories.

Last August we were on the cusp of a major decision: do we stay or do we go? We had been renting a house for the last 4 years and we loved where we lived. But for years we entertained the idea of moving to another state and launching another location of the business. We spent months in prayer at the end of last year about it. We even interviewed with different corporate companies in different states for possible jobs. My anxiety was at an all time high because the fact of the matter is we have a community of friends who are golden and that’s hard to find these days.

August 2019 my friend had her first meditation retreat and I attended.

At the retreat the attendees wrote a message to ourselves about what we were in prayer about and what God was speaking to us about it. What I wrote was my fears. Fears about the unknown and fears about making the wrong choice. But affirming that the good things God does for us isn’t the last (good thing) He will do.

I kept hearing it in my spirit, this good thing isn’t the last good thing God will do.
Repeat. Affirm. Repeat.

We finally received an answer and it was now is not the time. We didn’t know it then but a pandemic was coming.

God be looking out.

So we went back to the list and had to decide—do we continue renting or do we buy? The thought of buying kept my stomach in knots. The thought of building made my heart race. While driving around town we found a neighborhood we liked and it was being built. However, they only had 3 lots left so if we were going to do this we needed to decide like yesterday. I couldn’t decide and as I’ve often talked about being an Enneagram 5w6 I am a super planner and researcher. It was one of those moments where you jump and pray God isn’t like, ‘oh my bad girl I didn’t know you were actually going to do that.’ I needed 24 hours at least. When we came back the next day there was one lot left. It was literally Lot 1 and someone had just left saying if we didn’t get it they wanted it. Let me tell you about my stress levels. High! Before I knew it I was saying let’s do this and we were ushering ourselves outside to take pictures.

What did we just do?

I spent the entire year holding on to this relatively good news afraid it wouldn’t happen because previous situations told me it would be a waste of energy. Fear told me to stay quiet. (Brene Brown: The Call to Courage on Netflix is linked because it helped me last year as I walked through the ups and downs of this journey.) Old disappointments told me to expect it. Not the unexpected but what’s happened before to happen again. Then the pandemic happened and it felt like God had stopped moving thus getting excited about this thing we prayed for would blow up in our face.

Have you ever been in a place where you were so bound by fear and disappointment that the enemy had covinced you that, despite God showing up in EVERY area of your life, THIS is where He bows out? Have you ever not allowed yourself to feel excited and to dream and envision because it felt like just that, a dream?

In January I told two of my best friends. They remembered the journey, one I called crying after that fall through and I knew they’d cover me when my pessimism or cynicism rather would rise. I’m sure it wasn’t easy. Standing in the gap for someone who has been hurt isn’t easy. (That’s a message about friendship for another post.) In February we told our families. Brought them to the site where the house would be and celebrated. Me and my cousins cried. Their encouragement gave me hope. Their hugs warmed my heart that had become hardened to the idea.

This is a post about healing.

One of my sister friends moved from a different state in March and we shared our fears with one another about change and praying it would be a good thing. Because honestly should we move in the middle of a pandemic? As people reached out and asked how they could pray for me, I shared that we were building a house and I’m afraid it will fall through. Their prayers and love and understanding gave me breath.

This is a post about vulnerability.

What do you do when you believe that God has run out of good things for you? When the disappointments of the past become the base facts shaping your views in the present. When you wonder if what He’s done for others can be done for you…

You cling to the belief of those covering you. You hold tight to their prayers and encouragement. You write what you don’t see but believe you will see. You AFFIRM.

This isn’t a story about a house we bought. It’s a story about how God walked me through healing and reminded me that I am seen, I am loved, I deserve everything good and beautiful thing He has in store for me.

For that, this sings. Selah.