Ron and I have been seeking clarity and discernment in an issue that matters all to much to me. In our quest to find tiny, we are being prompted, asked, tempted(?) to give up something quite precious and comfortable. Our house. My perfect little house of the exact proportions suited to my needs. The right level of comfort and content and location. My dream house of reasonable dreams. The house that made perfect human sense for the state of life in which I find myself. And to my introverted self, my haven. MY home. What???
Being prompted, asked, tempted (?) to give up your home can bring you to your knees in a few seconds flat. Take my sweater - yes that one that I couldn't part with in my closet because I wore it twice last year - as it is certainly now very easy to give up in comparison, but do not take my home. Everything is relative, right? And yet there it sits, the prompting, the asking, the tempting, day after day as I find myself swinging from greed, to trust, to disbelief, to pride, back to trusting, then straight to the greed of square footage funneling in the vat of mindfulness all in a span of 3 minutes. This confrontation of faith versus self is seriously challenging and takes a toll on every moment of your day! Give up our home? Anything but that. I'm happy to offer you my material anything else.
What started as a prompting to be more purposeful in our days, and more in tune with having a little less of the American dream, became a prodding of minimization and freeing up our finances and lifestyles to whatever was around the next corner for us, not by our planning and manipulating, but by God's choosing for us...whatever that may be. There wasn't a stark revelation, but rather an underlying current moving us to toward less of this and more of that. A desire to be more aligned and better tuned so that we were simply better at life. It's murky in that we have no idea what that will look like, but very clear at the same time that only good will come of that. And in that process our "movie screen" paused on a picture of our house, something we held very dear. (I blame Ron. He started all of this. Wink). My house, which represents everything my soul does not. And it holds my everything. Every tangible possession I've collected throughout. It's my treasure collector. It's my safe zone. It's how I shut the rest of the world out after a frustrating job-filled day with one closing of the garage door. And there the question was being brought to the forefront "can you give up your house?". It was a definite change in events and out of left field. It came screeching around the corner in Amtrak Speed and precision. But it was certainly not on our schedule and surely it wasn't pulling into our station. With one sound of the train whistle, the movie plot got play-dough thick.
As we continue to sort through the current character development plot, I am finding that I'm not entirely sure if it is a specific outcome that is to be reached. I'm not sure this house or that house is the end point. Current square footage, lesser square footage, more square footage. Current zip code, different zip code, no zip code. I believe it all can bring great things when you heart is aligned. But I am quite assured instead that this process of trying to hear God's voice is growing Ron and I in ways that had not been measurable before. Am I WILLING to leave it all behind? That is the first most evident question we are being asked. This short month of contemplate is taking us places we had not traversed in the 6 years prior, and the richness of that is astounding. For our marriage, for our trust in God's provisions, for our view of the world around us, and for introspective searching and revealing of the condition of our hearts. I'm not confident God is commanding me to leave my home, this structure of plank and nail, but rather revealing to us the whether we love him enough to do that which we would have previously considered absurd if he were to ask us t, particularly when the outcome is not yet known. Our pride and greed had us in a fingertip grip of massive proportions to the frame of our dwelling door. And in that we are finding that living a life fully devoted to him is willingness to leave it all behind if asked. And to recognize that not only in that will you find content, but you will find fulfillment and joy beyond anything imaginable in plank and nail. This house is not my home. The planks of wood not my confident. This garden tub not my sanctuary. And I'm beyond certain that my life through him is my eternal reward. So step away from me, luxury granite counter top! You shall have no hold over me! (....though for full disclosure just last night when viewing another house, I was desperately embracing my 2 car garage. I'm trying, I'm not perfect. It's a struggle that is very real for us all.
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Our conflict seems absurd on a secular level. Most of those around us will find us idiotic. And that is not lost on me. (Who leaves their "perfect house" when there isn't a reason to? No job loss, no relocation orders, no need for more space.) It makes no sense. We certainly aren't all on the same path here in life. But he path for Ron and I is ours and we are right in the middle of it and it's our Here and Now. Are we willing to let our faith be our walk? I know not where I will lay my head 4 months from now, but I know where I want to lay my heart. May I be more in tune tomorrow than I am today.
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Disclaimer: Before you abandon this blog ship, I do realize these past 2 posts have drifted quite a ways from the blogging of mastectomy. And for that I offer awareness of my faux pas. Mastectomy is a piece of my whole. Surgery #6 in August will bring us all back around in no time. For now, I am basking in a few months of life outside of mastectomy and giving you a glimpse of the rest of me. Maybe next week I will be back to the hilarity that can be found in my adventures at the grocery store. Commitment issues don't bode well when picking out fresh mozzarella (or new houses for that matter!).
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For extra reading that landed on my plate this week:
