November 30, 2015 - Gaining another monument

I’m almost afraid to tell this story. It’s a fear of not doing it justice in how everything came together in God-like fashion. I don’t want to disappoint him in my telling. You surely wouldn’t believe the chain of events had you been sitting co-pilot in real time beside Ron and I, so just take my word for it. It is an awesome story despite my unimpressive re-telling.

Ron found it Thanksgiving Day. The house of the “crazy people” who list their house for sale the week of thanksgiving (well in fact the day before thanksgiving) while traveling out of town. The people who evidently are as crazy as Ron and I. I now know this is a brilliant plan – listing while on vacation, because you clean the house before you leave and never again while you are gone! I now wouldn’t do it any other way. I was skeptical of this newly discovered house, listed the prior day. We had already secured an apartment (see last post) knowing we were in the last week of being able to find a house and close on it in time for our current house closing. January 5th is a month away. It's very difficult in current mortgage processes to close on a house in under 45 days, much less FIND a house and then close. We had already decided that an apartment and its high rental fees was inevitable. We had spent the weekend before apartment hunting and now had the apartment secured for move in later in December. So when Ron flipped the computer screen my way on thanksgiving day, I only halfheartedly committed to its viewing. I even said to Ron, this is likely a waste of time, and I feel bad for making the realtor go with us thanksgiving weekend to see it. I looked at the pictures, fulling knowing that living room was smaller than it appeared, that dining room would only hold a 2 person card table, and that master surely only boasted room for a twin. It said “two car garage”, “master bedroom downstairs”, “open floor plan”, and “spacious backyard”. I had fallen prey to those words before only to disappoint when the master was really the storage closet, the price was out of budget, and the location in another state. But these pictures, and most certainly the price tag, had “What in the world? This is awesome!” written all over it! But I knew something would disappoint. "Ron, are you SURE you want to go see it?" We would have to go back to Raleigh a day early so we could see it before the 48 hour sale off that is happening in this market.

We packed up our bags and headed back to town to meet our realtor at the house. Ron and I arrived a little early and pulled into the drive way. WHAT? This DOES look like the picture. The neighborhood was off our radar as it was in a zip code we had not yet considered, but it sat about 0.5 miles outside two zip codes I was trying to maintain. The realtor arrived and we went to the front door. My heart sort of dropped, as the last house I had on my master plan came to a booming halt as soon as the front door opened. She turned the key, opened the door, and my heart went from drop zone to delight! Not only did the house LOOK like the pictures, for the first time in our search, it actually exceeded the pictures! The living room was open and would hold my couch AND my coffee table. The dining room was a place you could actually dine with your 6 closest friends. The master bedroom was in fact downstairs and sporting a king sized bed. The garage not only holds two cars, but room for Ron’s tools! A walk in attic? Was someone playing a trick on me? For the first time, we were standing in a house that created an excitement, and without compromise. And do you recall I said under budget? I didn't know what God was going to lead me too, but I knew he would create excitement in me for whatever that would be once we found it. I had excitement.

“Ron, I think this is it.” “Sally, I think this is it.” We walked back out to the front of the house and met a second group of people coming in for a showing. My heart was sinking. Twelve people had already seen this house.

We drove to the realtor’s office and got out of the car. “I called the agent while you guys were coming over and they have an offer coming in tonight. Do you still want to make an offer?” Oh no, I knew it! Every house we had even CONSIDERED wanting to buy had multiple offers on it. I was well past loathing this real estate market. This house had everything we needed – this master down is crucial right now and very hard to find in the urban sprawl of houses being built “up” instead of “out” to save land. While a 2 car garage was a want and not a need, it was important to me for Ron to have this so he would have somewhere to store his tools and such. I didn’t want him to have to sacrifice that because of my need for a master down. Usually you get one or the other, but both was starting to be unheard of in our new budget. My heart was breaking that my need was to over-ride his want. So we knew this house was a gem for our current state and we might not have another option this good.

“Yes!”

We typed up an offer and sent it in. We heard back almost immediately that a second offer had come in, so they were giving each of us an opportunity to submit one last offer for them to choose from. I knew in my heart that this house was something God had placed in front of us. The timing was perfect (the last week before the timeline mandated we had to move into an apartment, and after I had giving up on anything listing in the holiday week), the location suitable for our commutes in opposite directions, the layout perfection for my health challenges, and all under budget thus making our drastic mortgage downsize dreams come true. God was doing his thing.

We typed up a second offer and included a letter of “our story” to the sellers of how God was taking us to something new, leaving behind the “perfect forever home”, and now looking for a new house that would work for my physical needs, our location demands for our commutes, and some of our wants as well.  It only took an hour or so before we got a reply from the sellers letting us know how our story had touched them. They wrote back of how this home would be perfect for us just as it had been for them when they needed a master down during her pregnancy. They felt delighted to give us the chance to make their house our home and were grateful we shared our journey with them.

If I didn’t serve this amazing God that I do I would think this story impossible. We have searched and searched for a home, only to find huge compromise and location woes. We would find a great house, but would have to leave it behind because the master was up. Or we would find a house that had the layout, but needed drastic work, thus pushing the final cost up and out of our budget. Then there were the houses that just felt-off and not what God was choosing for us. Now, the week we settle on an apartment out of necessity, we find this gem that not only hits all of our tick points (the first house to do so), but also adds in some lovely additions we didn’t think possible (a front porch, a backyard, a walk in attic, under budget!) And the big kicker….. closing date is Jan 5th! Yes, you are recalling correctly, that is the exact same date of our current house.

See, I told you! God did his thing once again. I tried to thwart the journey with worry and disappointment along the way See Sally go up, See Sally go down! But what you did not see is "See Sally run!"  We kept remembering that when God calls, he provides. We stepped out on faith and He in all his Glory did his thing! Not only did I find contentment in leaving my house, I found excitement in God’s provision. I lost some house upgrades, but was gaining another monument of what God can do when you follow, even when it doesn’t make sense. No tribute to me, but all to him and his faithfulness.

We are in the midst of packing our house, so we can't put up our Christmas tree and decor. Ya'll know I ADORE decorating for Christmas. Well, I know how to improvise in celebration. My last Christmas in this home will still carry Christmas cheer.

What a mighty God we serve!

(Side note prayers for the couple who didn't get the house. I know that feeling of disappoint, and back to the drawing table. My gift was their loss. No doubt, they are not feeling delight.)

November 24, 2015 - See Sally Go Up!

It turns out not only is my house delightful and sells in no time flat, evidently every house I want to buy is equally as delightful. Every time we think of making an offer, we find out it went under contract earlier that day or the night before. Case and point yesterday when the most delightful house (one of the few that hit all of our check points) went to a “johnny on the spot” bidder. Heaven forbid you take 4 hours to see if the commute is a problem. Or maybe you want to take 2 hours to run the numbers and see how it works out. Not in this market! Houses that need new roofs and complete siding replacement ($$$), not to mention interior efforts, have 3 offers in 24 hours. This is challenging me in new ways, my friend.

We’ve entered the time window where we can’t close on a new house in the time we need to be out of our current house (January 5th) so we went ahead and secured an apartment to have on hand to live in and store our stuff in, thus circumventing the whole storage unit process.)I do have some excitement in that step! I can already picture myself stirring the spaghetti sauce in that kitchen. I feel accomplished in this task, but not much else. God (Satan/me/every buyer competing with us?) has me on a see saw. See Sally go up (she found a great house)! See Sally go down (oops, they already have an offer)! See Sally loose her sanity (what an emotional roller coaster). Working hard to not See Sally Run (Duct taping myself to my current garage door)!

In many ways it has been less stressful than I imagined. I hear the inspection went swimmingly well, though I am waiting on the actual report before I put all of my eggs in the swimmingly well basket. Finding an apartment was successful in one day (though maybe a bit more expensive than I remember from 15 years ago!). We get to move in mid-december to give us 3 weeks to slowly turtle-like our boxes from one garage to another. That is a huge not overlooked benefit to not finding a house yet. Closing day will be laid back instead of frantically moving from one house to another in a 6 hours span. Ron and I remain civil and jovial with each other after having packed up our kitchen and parts of the bedroom. We have secured a ton of FREE boxes from 3 different people in surrounding neighborhoods thanks to “Nextdoor” posts, and we don’t have to buy a single box or packing supply. Oliver doesn’t seem the least bit mad at us for the pending relocation despite boxes covering our living area. Though he did just have a near-death event and maybe doesn’t realize what is up just yet. To be determined.

What is stressful is this emotional roller coaster like seesaw. Every night (and I mean every night) and every morning you plant yourself on the sofa to see what listed in the last 12 hours. Reminder, 12 hours matter in this market! You see something that hits >7 of your 10 check points, you get super excited picturing this very sofa you are planted on now situated up next to the their fireplace next to the staircase leading up to a second level of bliss. You touch base with the realtor… only to find it already has 4 offers. Alternately, you find the most delightful little cottage (ok it’s just a house, but terminology helps my excitement) and schedule a visit only to find out they must have been taking pictures of their neighbor’s house instead of the one you are standing in wondering how that kitchen came to be 3 x 2 and without a stove. Is a spot for a stove too much to ask for? See Sally go up! See Sally go down.

Finding this apartment has eased my soul a bit minus the mishap of the seemingly perfect house going to the johnny on the spot bidder yesterday. Congratulations, Johnny, I’m relying on the fact that you surely need that house more than I do. Yes, I know that just means it wasn’t the house for us, but God should have let me know in foresight instead of hindsight, right? Often we humans think God owes us something, don’t we? Maybe God had perfect timing in that plan of us still not having a house before we have to move out, though I find myself complaining about having to move boxes twice. I’m the first one to slip off the grateful ship, you know.  Still, I am relishing in knowing I have a place to live (and for 4 months mind you!) allows me to be less concerned about what is not yet on the market for me to move in to, in my budget, without either of us having to drive across 4 counties, with a master down and at least a spot for a stove. Campfire, anyone?

I still faithfully believe God brought us here and he will provide the house in his timing. He’s yet to let me down in life, even if things don’t unroll the way I would wish up front. Somehow that doesn’t negate the responsibility of doing our part to search and secure the “ark”. In in the process the see saw takes hold of me! So thankful for a husband who is right there with me in the process and that we are fully trusting that God will do what God does...in his timing.

Each morning, I wake up with a new address memorized. I wonder which one will end up sticking?


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November 20, 2015 - Who wants hard breasts?

The room was less than half full, though you could tell the clinic was super busy given that I was already 1 hour past my appointment due time, and still I sat reading my book. I had scheduled my appointment late in the day so I could work a full day then head over. The sky outside was starting to fade into dusk, and I was feeling the tiredness of my work day settle in. It had been a doozie and I was grateful to be in a quiet waiting room. Despite the abundance of available spots in the room, she gently sat down next to me on the love seat. I placed her age to be in her early to mid 80s. Not the usual patient I see in this waiting room. Despite her age and while still the usual coarse texture of grey, she had endearing 2 inch long rusted-blond curls of hair going in 20 different directions, yet gently swept over to the right in the front adding a controlled appearance. She kept pushing them over with her hand as she sat. She wore a grey wool sweater vest over a similarly colored striped turtle neck shirt and beige polyester pants.. She carried a small handbag which now sat balanced atop her crossed legs. Her fingers were aged with arthritis and age spots. Her frame was frail and petite, but she carried an air around her of being totally together and independent. I could see she felt either rushed or nervous as she kept glancing around the room. We likely looked very out of place sitting next to each other as we carried almost no similar traits. Or so I thought.

She started her dialogue with me almost immediately.

"I almost never found this place. They keep moving clinics around here. I hope I'm still on time." 
"Yes, m'am. It is a large campus for sure, but I think you are right on time as they seem to be running behind. Are you new to the breast clinic?"
"Sort of. I'm "Jocelyn Morreou" (changed of course). Everyone always mispronounces my name. Are you here to see Lead Plastic Surgeon, too?"

Nothing about her, other than the fact that she was sitting in a breast clinic, alerted me to a diagnosis. She had no tell-tale signs of bulging drains. Her hair was in tact. Her coloring spectacular with her carefully painted rosy cheeks and mauve lips. No caregivers  with her at the appointment. I would soon (in a less than 15 minute time span) learn from her that she was single or widowed and in her early eighties.

"Yes, Mam. I've been coming to this clinic for 3 years now. I am here for a followup after a surgery to replace my breast implants. "

Her eyes got wide and she looked up at me and and said (while simultaneously grabbing both breast and pushing them up) "Me too! These things have gotten so hard and they won't move at all!"
It took everything in my power not to bust out laughing, but I was a total champ at keeping my composure. "I had a mastectomy 12 years ago and have had no problems at all until now. These things have become all hard and they won't move around a bit. They just sit there hard as a brick and uncomfortable. (Reminder, she's still manually holding her boobs up and moving them around as she talks to me.)  She then exclaims with the passion of a 20 year old 'Who wants hard breasts?!?!' They have to be replaced, I am sure of it. But I hope this will be an easy surgery. I live alone now. I recently downsized my house and moved to this quaint little neighborhood."

Ok, so here I sat picking up on all of the newly discovered similarities between me and Ms. Jocelyn. I couldn't believe that God had plopped this very endearing lady  in her eighties down on my sofa in this waiting room. I told her about my current state of downsizing houses and having just recently undergone the exact same surgery for the exact same reason that she was about to be confronted with. I spent a lot of time detailing recovery and comforting her that she didn't have a thing to worry about. She would love the outcome. Recovery would be quick and her family could come help her out. I was in the middle of asking her to tell me more of her story (I got all of the great details. she had early breast cancer when they found it in her 70s and she had decided not to do chemotherapy, but rather go with mastectomy and hope for the best. She reminded me that "quality of life matters, you know! Always get a second opinion when they push you to chemo.") when we heard her name being called for her appointment. "See, they said it wrong. But she gave it a good try!" We squeezed each other's hand and off she went. I gave myself a chuckle when I thought about a lady in her mid 80s worrying about what her breasts looked like. That right there is a lady with some spunk! And a gentle reminder that no matter our age, we all are women and have opinions of ourselves.

There I was sitting alone again on the sofa thinking how much she may have unknowingly needed to have chosen the seat next to me as who else in that room other than me would have recently had scar tissue surgery and could provide perspective, but more importantly how much I had benefited from her seat selection. If only I could hear all the stories sitting in that room. What a better person I become by knowing each of them. With a smile on my face, I picked up my book and resumed waiting my turn.

"Ms. McCollum?"

As a reminder for you, Lead Plastic Surgeon had told me it would take a month or more for the breast to fall back into shape after surgery, so he had not yet seen the outcome of surgery since my last appointment had been only 2 weeks post op. I had checked out the goods the night before, for the first time since my last appointment, and was amazed at how I now had symmetrical imposters! It worked! And the scars had already begun their fading process. I could not have been more please with the results, well, considering this was surgery #6. So when I presented the canvas to the artist he didn't say a word. He simply lifted his hand in a high five (which I happily gave) and I responded with requesting a low five as well. He said "hold on, I want my nurse practitioner to see this." (What?!?! Community show and tell?). He said he never would have dreamed it turned out so well  after my complications since mastectomy and she wouldn't believe it. So we had a community show and tell, and I simply let it happen because I at least owed him that, right? As I was getting ready to leave and relishing in the fact I would have no more breast clinic appointments to schedule, I grabbed his arm.

"I met Ms. Jocelyn in the hallway. She started rejecting her implant with scar tissue 12 years out. Do I need to worry?" 
"Sally, let's take this day by day. Don't give it a second thought."
"Well, I won't really rest until April. That is the time point for when I had cellulitis after surgery."
"Yes, I know. Day by day, ok?"
"Ok, just know this that when I walk out this door, I don't plan on ever seeing you again, ok?"
"Then give me a hug and be gone. We've come a long way haven't we?! You were a surgical feat for me."

As I left the appointment and walked down the long hallway (it was after hours and the normally super busy corridor somehow felt deserted), I found this incredible smile on my face as I walked further way from the clinic. We had done it! Too bad Ron wasn't there with me in the hallway. I literally would have grabbed him and swung him around as the tears rolled down my cheek." Another Breast/boob/imposter surgical chapter triumphantly closed. How can I not be beaming? God is so good to me.


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November 16, 2015 - Off we go all the same

The tires had just hit the runway after a two leg flight, and I was eager to get upright and out of this winged contraption. We had been up since 4 that morning and were in need some cajun grub and maybe a nap to re-set ourselves. Four a.m and I don't mix very well and it was starting to show. I looked out the window to my right to see the visions of Louisiana fill the small oval glass. It was crazy to think it had been 10 years since all of this was flooded in Katrina's wrath. I could almost see the swells of water on the runway in my imagination. Those images that filled the television screen 10 years earlier never really leave your mind. They left me impacted, and now I was going to see the outcome of the city coming back full force. "Welcome to New Orleans where the local time is 10:17. The use of cell phones is now permitted. Thank you for choosing us for your travel needs." I reached down into my bag to turn on my phone to adjust the time and immediately noticed I had 3 missed calls. What in the world? I get 3 calls in a month! Two second later, while trying to decipher who was calling and when they came through, the phone rang again in my hand.

"Hello?" 

"Hey Sally, this is A calling from ____(the vet office). I've been trying to reach you. Did you get my voice messages?" 

It suddenly registered to me that the vet office is closed on Sundays and A had no reason to be in the office. Immediately, my stomach did the 180 roll inside my abdomen and I braced myself for what I was about to hear. I glanced over at Ron next to me and saw he was acutely tuned into to me next to him as salty water was accumulating on the rim of my lower eye lid.

"Oh no, A, it is Sunday and you are not supposed to be in the office today. Something is wrong isn't it?" 

"The tech came in the office this morning to feed Oliver and found him unresponsive. He was freezing cold, and not reacting to voice or touch. The tech called me, and I flew into the office to see what was going on. When I arrived, Oliver was in a coma-like state. His body temperature was 90 (should be 101), and it was obvious he had had seizures through the night as there was urine and feces all over his cage. I checked his blood sugar and it was so low that it wasn't detectable (<20). I am not sure he is going to survive. I have started warming up his body to see if I can get a response from him, but I worry he may have significant organ damage and brain damage from the seizures. He very easily could be blind as well. I am in the process of warming him and giving him dextrose to get his blood glucose up. I will call you back in a a little bit when I know more. We love Oliver and are doing our best here." (Only slightly paraphrased as I try to recall exact words from last week.)

There I was sitting in 20F on a now empty plane with the phone in my lap, tears streaming down my face, and a stewardess standing above us asking us if we needed help. All I could do was grab my bag from the overhead, grab Ron's hand and head out to the ramp leading from plane to terminal. What was going on? Our sweet, sweet, Oliver who seemed perfectly fine when we dropped him off the day before was now lying frigid cold and unresponsive in a steel boarding cage back in North Carolina. And suddenly the last place I wanted to be was where I was at that very moment. Ron and I just couldn't process what was happening. We were supposed to be starting our week-long annual vacation with Ron's family after a very stressful two weeks trying get the house on the market. There wasn't a thing we could do but put Oliver into God's hands and wait to see what turned out. Meanwhile, Ron and I were preparing ourselves to have to make that awful decision of letting him go, all while 3 states away.

Over the next 24 hours we learned that Oliver's diabetes had suddenly gone into remission and the daily insulin shots he had been receiving was sending his blood sugar to undetectable lows. His body responded with going into a protective frigid state, but it was too much for him and he had seizures and brain swelling in response to blood levels. Dr. A spent the first 12 hours warming Oliver's body up so she could see what permanent damaged had occurred to his organs. She also gave him IV fluids to get his blood sugar back up. And she watched and waited. A few hours in he started to lift his head and look at her, but not much else.

The phone rang again late that night: "Sally, I don't know what to say, We transferred Oliver to an emergency vet office where they had more support staff on the weekends. (I'm picturing our sweet Oliver getting his first "pet ambulance" ride and not even being able to enjoy it.) They gave him a dose of mannitol to reduce the swelling in his brain because he was having some twitching movements that we often see with brain swelling. You are not going to believe it. Immediately, he (the cat with 36 lives) started playing with a toy in his boarding cage. He got up started batting it around and then found his food bowl where he has been standing eating like a little piggy ever since. We are going to watch him closely for the next 48 hours in the ICU, but Oliver did what Oliver does and pulled through. It's a miracle really. We can't believe it!"

What?!?! Ron and I didn't even know what to say! We just sort of stared at each other with tears in our eyes for this cat we have pulled through urinary stones, lymphoma, multiple eye and ear infections, and now steroid induced diabetes after his lymphoma went into remission. We were speechless and exhausted and fell into bed with looks of "what just happened?" plastered on our faces.

This was turning out to be such an emotional roller coaster week. A miracle with Oliver using his 36th life, us paralyzed in another state not able to do a thing, and now I bring to you the emotional miracle of our house. Ok, so while Oliver was dying, reviving himself, and then thriving back to 100% normalcy (I don't know why this surprises me because it is like the 3rd time he has tried to die on us), our contractor was finishing up some final tasks on our house so we could get it on the market. We got a call from him on Tuesday evening (Oliver crashed on Sunday, revived on Monday, and now was thriving on Tuesday) that despite God sending a flooding rain the last 2 days, he had finished the painting job and the project was officially done and ready to be listed. He called our realtor and she went over to the house on Wednesday morning to put the sign in the yard for us. Within an hour, I had 3 requests for showings that same day. By the end of the day we had a verbal offer. Thursday morning we received the written offer. Our house had sold in 24 hours all while we were on vacation.

Now here is where God comes into play:

• The house sold while we were on vacation 24 hours after listing. 
• The house sold for the price I had mentally listed in my head. 
• The house sold to a couple who is downsizing just like Ron and I. 
• The house sold without me having to be there keeping the house clean for showings. We virtually would have never known the house went on the market except for a sign being in the yard! 
• The couple requested a Christmas week closing. They allowed us to push back to January 5th so we could enjoy Christmas week.

Now here is where I need God to get on board. We have no where to live. January 5th is like 45 days away. I may or may not be a little stressed about this minor detail. But I want to buy a house in faith and not a house out of fear. So I am trusting God to come through with a little house gem chosen perfectly for Ron and I and in his timing (which I hope to be aligned with our closing date. I will boldly ask for that). He has totally stepped up to the plate in the selling of our house, so I can only imagine he will follow through in providing the perfect purchase for us with His goals in mind. This story has God written all over it. And I am trying to keep Sally-induced-turmoil out of the picture. I'm the very first person to mess up a good God story, so I am keeping my arms duct taped to my side and my mouth taped as well so He can do his thing. You all know I am working hard to be a story collector and I have good faith this one will be collection worthy when all is said and done. Prayers for it as we go as the thoughts of packing up a house with nowhere to go as of yet can be a little mind boggling. I haven't packed a single box and I guess I'd be smart to start that process. But off we go all the same. A little less house, a little more home!

On a mastectomy related note: I have my 3 month follow-up appointment (boob show and tell) this week with Lead Plastic Surgeon. I was in New Orleans last week. I told Ron it would only be fitting for me to practice show and tell for some Mardi Gras beads. He wasn't amused. No worries, it didn't happen, but how can I not at least banter with Ron about it while in New Orleans? I did at least see him crack a smile. Or maybe he was just thinking about Oliver and him surviving his 36th life and the house selling the next day.


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November 3, 2015 - Black blob on the screen

Last time, it was while in the dreaded stirrups (stirrup saga posted here). This time while getting a cardiac echo. This week, I am smack in the middle of all the testing I need to complete as followup to my lymphoma treatment from 24 yr previous. I might be slightly behind schedule, but I get points for doing it all the same. Last week, my pulmonary tests showed I was developing some radiation-induced fibrosis (think of scars forming in the lungs which leads to lung volume loss), so now it was time to look at the heart to see if there was any collateral damage. The sweetest technician ever (I keep running into great people on this journey!) was applying the gel to the probe and running it up the length of my sternum. Then under the breast. Then back again. About 3 or 4 minutes in, "Um, Ms. McCollum, I don't want to be overly personal, but is there any chance you have breast implants?" Me, letting out a chuckle, "Yeah, let me guess, you are having trouble seeing the heart." She pulls the monitor over to me where I can see the black blob on the screen instead of the heart valves which were our intended subject. Never a dull moment I tell ya. So we regrouped. Injected an agent to make visibility better and started again. Who knew I was to divulge my implants for a heart appointment? I think I will just put it out there front and center at my colonoscopy. "Mam, just in case you need to know while looking at my colon...I have breast implants".  Ladies, you just never know.

I had written this summer how it's not about being a survivor of malignancy, it's more about surviving malignancy. I'm 24 years out from my lymphoma and it never really is a thing of the past. I'm in the middle of pulmonary testing, same with cardiac testing, just completed dermatology, post mastectomy surgical followup this month, and will start gastrointestinal stuff in January. It can mentally weight you down, these initial appointments back to back, but then they are behind you and what is unknown will be known and you move forward with information in tow. Surviving. That's what we do and will do from here on out.  Simply put, all of these workups happening simultaneously makes life feel a little busy.

Which leads me to the the pending house sale. Oh mercy lou! While I still feel peaceful and know this is the path we are to take, it certainly doesn't help the to-do list. We got delayed a week when the contractor doing one repair needed to come a week later than we anticipated. So instead of listing this week, we will list the house next week. And you ask yourself "do you have somewhere to live"? Plain and simple - No. I will not stress out about that. I will not stress out about that. I will not stress out about that! (Ok, so maybe one or two nights this week I woke up at 0 dark thirty in a tad of a panic, but the daylight hours are perfectly fine. So no need to worry!) When God calls, he provides. We know we will live somewhere close to where we live now and that it will present itself when the time is right. I am a little more comforted after looking this week (distressing when looking last week) at some houses online that fall within our budget. There most certainly will be some compromise ( I will miss my ranch floor plan with my master on the main level, but alas...first world problems), but no doubt there will come some delight. I've always found my current kitchen cabinets, while beautiful, not to my taste. See, I'm vain.  It's always the unknown that brings about turmoil huh? Well, the known is always do-able when it finally comes about. So far every thing we have visited, we have ruled out. But no worries. There is plenty of time (right?). My mother may or may not have told me I could not move in with her. I'm fairly sure she may have been joking?!?! Maybe.

What a testament this will be when all is said and done....if I can keep myself from derailing the whole thing. Not a testament to myself, but a statement of what God can do when you walk by faith. Ok, or maybe a testament to myself in how humans can be so stupid with worry. I may hyperventilate along the way here and there, but I can't wait to look back and see how Ron and I grew in this moment. We've never walked blindly into something before. It's certainly not where we are gifted - us Type A Planners who even plan out how we will make a plan. And I am sure we will be collecting some "lessons learned" along the way. Like this week when God took away the very house we were quite sure would be The One".  Or how waiting for joint peace between us before making this decision brought us better selling perks than we would have had last spring when peace had not yet set in.

The story is still unfolding. You guys remember that my well-being heavily relies on planned instant gratification, right? He sure knows how to overcome a weakness.


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November 1, 2015 - Difficulty learning to un-collect

I'm completely fine looking forward. I'm completely fine looking back. It is when I do them simultaneously in a moment of comparison that the Lord reveals the condition of my heart. I'm not sure whether I measure this current moment as success or failure. They seem so intertwined on most days. Success in that we are taking that leap of faith without knowing the path forward. Failure is measured in my greed of what I leave behind.

It started almost 6 month ago. This prompting, prodding, nudging of leaving this house for something different. Call it downsizing. Call is re-programming. Call it crazy! Call it long over due. Call it against the normal american flow. Call it DAUNTING. Many terms could be applied and each would carry its merit. Right now I am in the middle of the undulating chaos that ripples as an outcome of our most recent decision. We've done it. We've chosen a path with an unpublished ending. Our house is going on the market this very week. And now we are in the run around like crazy mode of getting everything done. I feel like these last seven days have been 2 months. I would bet I have crammed 800 hours of tasks into 72 hours. I've scrubbed and buffed and tweaked and evaluated and measured, and now... I'm tired physically. I'm tired emotionally. And this coming week will be more crazy than last. I'm told our house is going to sell rather quickly...and there unearthed in that revelation is the condition of my heart.            

It's so easy to find a house when you are upgrading. More square footage. More amenities. More "American dream".  More collecting. There is much less superficial delight when you are downsizing. Less amenities. Less "American dream". My joy comes in hearing his voice and following, but then I walk into the prospective house and find less of my worldly treasures. I've grown so accustomed to gathering "more" in this life. And now I am in the midst of hitting the "reset" button. Just when I think I have made a progressive step forward, I find myself staring at my granite in remorse for leaving it behind. I'm having difficulty learning to un-collect.

We've set a budget and we will get what we get. And right now that is the unknown. This whole process is such a mixed bag of emotions. Joy in recognizing that we did it. We followed God's prompt even when on paper it sounds a little crazy. Terror in not knowing where you are going. Fear in leaving behind what you perfectly love and adore. Anxiety in the "what ifs". Security in financial decision making. Warmth in deciding in tandem to jump in full force with your spouse. God is tweaking me in this moment as I listen to his goals for my life and better align my own in tow. Now, the goal is for me not to derail him with my own greed and desires. I know he is not calling all of us in this same way as he leads each of us in paths chosen directly for us, but for whatever reason, he is calling Ron and I to step out of this house and into something...well into something I don't have clarity about just yet.

We were originally going to embark on this journey alone, but then remembered journeys are to be shared and prayed over. Doing this alone just didn't make sense anymore. Our house is going on the market this week. Pretty soon Ron and I will have no place to live. I think you now know your prayer task. And while we are at it, my mindset fluctuates. Sometimes I soar! Sometimes I derail. You can pray for that as well.

(I'm reminded of God's provision from last spring when all of this prompting started. I walked outside and looked up to see this reminder of his faithfulness. God, breathe your breath into my life. Do your thing!)


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