We packed up our house to move.
But....we kind of needed a place to move to.
So my husband and I put an offer in on the fixer upper house in my dream neighborhood. This was the area where we wanted to be; this was where we wanted our children to be. Grandma and Grandpa would be right down the street. I would be back home once again, in the neighborhood where I belong. We waited, eagerly anticipating a response from the seller. We prayed over it, a prayer similar to a beg, “Please help us to get the house. Please help us to get the house.”
Could we possibly own a home in my dream neighborhood this quickly? This easily?
I am tired.
I miss seeing my husband.
For quite some time, he had been working two jobs. He worked 8 hours days and commuted another two hours per day. He had also been working on his side business, via internet, before work and after work. Day in, day out, same old thing, and I could see fatigue chipping away at his core. I started to wonder when he would have time to take on another job to pay for fixing up this house we planned on having. I missed him; how much more would I miss him if he added more to his plate? By the way, when would he have time to fix up this house?
My prayers changed. They became something like this, “Please help us not to get this house. Please help us not to get this house.” It’s funny how desires can change when your perception of something changes.
My thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the phone. I flew across the room, jumping over the couch, reaching for the phone. For those three days I slept with the phone, took out the trash with the phone, and went to the bathroom with the phone. I included the phone into every activity I participated in, well, except for the shower, but, you better believe, it was in ear shot.
We had two weeks to find a place to move our family, and moving in with my parents was out of the question.