
I’m having house problems. But that’s not the half of it.
We have been thinking about moving to the other side of town for some time now. There are many good reasons. That’s where our church, school, and many of our friends are.
And, believe it or not, we need to Up-Size. While most of my peers are transitioning to smaller homes now that their children are grown up, we actually need an additional bedroom to accommodate one of our adult daughters. (I have a complicated family. Did I mention that?)
So like many other homeowners who are hoping to sell, we have been trying to catch up with all the tasks we should have been doing over the last, say, 15 years or so. Cleaning closets, purging, touching up here and there.
It’s taking forever.
But like I said, that’s not the half of it.
Last night I felt a wave of anxiety. Not about my house — although that seems like a good metaphor. But about my Home. My family. My complicated family.
We are in the midst of making some changes to meet the needs of our children, and hopefully make some progress in some necessary areas. And while it all looks good on paper, the reality is starting to sink in, and I wonder, what if this doesn’t work?
So this morning I took it all to God. Poured out my heart. Asked for wisdom. Asked for faith.
And this is what he said.
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