We’re still in the throes of house hunting. It’s an exhausting, mentally challenging roller coaster. In fact, we were recently under contract on a house. We called it our unicorn property because there were so many amazing unique points it had to offer our family.
From the beginning, it had been a bit of an uphill battle with the house. But we completed the leg work, did our research and got answers to overcome all the little hurdles along the way. At one point, the thought crossed my mind as to whether or not it should be this hard to purchase a home. But I kept thinking about how some things really are worth fighting for.
After a few weeks of this ongoing flux of highs and lows, everything eventually came to a head. I can’t say it was one specific thing that caused us to pull out from the contract. Actually, it was one very specific thing called gut instinct, also known as the Holy Spirit. The husband and I both felt this instinct kick in the exact same afternoon, and thankfully we were on the same page.
But still, it was a hard pill to swallow. We had envisioned life with our little family on this property. We envisioned how we would spend summer days at the pool, winter days clearing the land and spring days planting a garden. We envisioned how we wanted to put our own touch on the property and where we would hang our kids’ tree swings. We envisioned who would sleep where and what furniture would go in each room. I even packed up the majority of our belongings and labeled them according to the room they would eventually go to when we moved.
We thought we had it all figured out.
By nature, we are fighters. When we want something done right, we do it ourselves. We do our research and we get answers. We rally others to fight for us in this common goal. But do you know what is sometimes even harder than continuing to fight for something?
It was difficult to wave the white flag and concede our future on this property. Closing day seemed so palpable. We would move in just before school started back and then we wouldn’t have to worry about changing schools mid-year. We would have a little room for our kids to roam and yet we would still be close to town. We would move the husband’s business onto the property and enjoy the convenience. And yet, all the pieces that had seemingly fallen into place to allow our pursuit of this house started to chip away.
Moments after we made the decision to concede, what I feared would be feelings of bitterness were eclipsed by a wave of relief. It’s not that relief came because we eluded some unforeseen perilous issue, but simply because we listened. And we didn’t concede because we necessarily wanted to, but because HE wanted us to.
It’s not up to us to know exactly why this property wasn’t right for us. Maybe God will reveal it in time or maybe He will just ask us to trust Him.
During our pursuit of this property, I happened to read a devotion entitled “God is Immutable.” For some reason, I even left the internet tab open to this devotion on my laptop for a week, which meant I saw that title every single day when I opened my computer to work.
Sometimes—oftentimes—it’s easier to follow my own path, especially when it’s laden with the best of intentions. It’s easier to be the one in control of the yeses and nos, the decisions and schedules.
But it’s true: God is immutable and unchangeable. His course is fixed, even if mine isn’t. He sets the seasons and shifts of change in life, and in doing so remains constant—perfect.
There is an occasion for everything,
and a time for every activity under heaven:
a time to give birth and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to uproot (Eccl. 3:1–2).
So while it’s still tempting to think about what might have been, I’m resolved to moving forward and trusting that there is something out there just for us. He’s promised provision but I have to remember to trust that.