Jeni Doesn't Cry

Remember my description of our house in Georgia? Modest 4 bedroom on over 2 acres beside a creek in a neighborhood with two families from our congregation (one being the pastor) and at least one other Christian home-schooling family with four kids about the ages of my children only two doors down from us? Seemed perfect, right? Down to little details... the kitchen cabinets match my hutch perfectly, the guy who installed the stairs "messed up" and used solid oak boards instead of oak/pine so they don't have to be carpeted, and one of the master closets has a window and is big enough to be the nursery. Yup, I sure thought it was perfect.

We were supposed to close on that house today. Pesky problem is we haven't sold our Florida house yet. We will fax an amendment to the contingency contract to the selling realtor today, and the builder may or may not agree to extend it. Even if he does, anyone with ready-money could make an offer on it and snatch it from us.

Many, many, many tears have rolled from my eyes regarding this situation. More than anything else the thought of not getting that house made me tense, anxious, sad, and at times (to my husband) unbearable. I had prayed for certain things in a house, but mostly for the intangibles of Christian neighbors; in wanting this house so badly I had thought my motives were pure--after all, I was seeking Christian fellowship and mentors, not grandeur. Pastor Phillips preached two Sunday nights ago on idols. He said that if you can fill in the blank of "If only I had________, I would be happy" then that thing was an idol. And there I came face to face with my idolatrous heart. Encountering sin is never pleasant, especially when it lurks in places you weren't expecting. Isn't that the beauty of the Word--exposing sin and giving hope for forgiveness and healing? That sermon was the catalyst for a week of struggling with my sin and coming to grieve over it and finally submitting to the fact that God's goal for me is not simply for me to be comfortable and happy, but holy.

What I thought was the perfect house may not be the one we buy in Georgia. Our house here hasn't sold yet, and we are completely helpless to make it do so. The situation is beyond any human interference, and strangely, I am at perfect peace about it. I may be giving birth in my mother's house instead of my own, which is not ideal, but do I have a right to complain about giving birth surrounded by people who love me in a house that is large, air-conditioned and equipped with running water? I don't think so.

On a lighter note, Mark may have a firm job offer soon. Will keep you updated...