adventure that I posted on recently. And in the grip of this adventure, we immediately made changes in our lifestyle, found a less expensive home, put our house on the market and are now waiting to see what God plans on doing with all of it. Of course, I've done all I can do, by obsessively cleaning every square inch of this place, and saying, "What if ________ happens," to Adrain every five minutes. I even wrote down our address in my prayer journal, just in case God forgot which house I'm asking for Him to sell. (And yes, I do know God doesn't forget...I'm a goof, and I'm pretty sure He expects that sort of thing from me at this point.) I've also baked multiple batches of Manipulative brownies, and then gone room to room with them, waving them around to get the scent all over the place, before our open house. Adrain stood there laughing at me and thankfully didn't know where I was hiding the camera. So, now we wait.
I'm really bad at waiting. As in... I don't like to wait at all. I'm super decisive and act immediately once I decide on something, with no regrets and I don't look back. I just go. I'm married to a carbon copy of that. (He's my polar opposite on everything else. He's calm, I'm high strung. I brake for Peanut Butter, he throws it in the trash. That sort of thing.)
So as we stand around and wait... the excitement factor begins to wane, and I start to panic. I'm really good at panicking, whereas my man doesn't panic. It makes me sick, but I also really appreciate it. So anyway... this journey. I'm fully on it, and my emotions are all right under the surface. It's emotional leaving the only house your babies have ever known. Their little hand prints in the patio we poured back in 2004... sob! You mean I'm going to walk away and leave that? (It's okay... I'm alright.)
Fear grabbed my ankle and wouldn't let go. And then I went to the orthodontist and started flipping through a magazine. That's when I landed on a page with a beautifully decorated room, and a large piece of art hanging on the wall. It was a print of a storm, and at the bottom, in large letters, were the simple words, "Fear Not." my breath caught in my throat, and I hiccuped back a sob. Once home, I found this verse in my devotions. "You came near when I called you, and you said, Do not fear." Lamentations, 3:57.
I don't know how this is all going to play out. I'm excited one minute, and filled with faith, and completely filled with doubts, the next. But we've had so many answers to prayer that I've begun writing them down. It's pretty clear that I'm not supposed to be afraid.
How about you? What are you fearing, that you need to surrender, and trust God for?
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