I've shared with you some details around our house- to sell or not to sell. And while each day grew us closer to a decision to sell (to the point of meeting with agent, settling on a list price, and having a pre-sale house showing to someone who heard we might be selling all in 24 hours after returning from our trip), these past few days have that turned up topsy turvy again. We so desperately want to honor God in this process and as such have prayed for and sought wisdom and clarity with a ferocious tenacity, yet at the 23rd hour things again came to a crashing halt. Previously for me, this time for Ron. We live in a market where you put your house on the market that morning, that afternoon you have 6 showings, that evening you have 4 offers. So very awesome for sellers, so very terrifying for buying. Ron and I have worries about being able to find a house with us working full time and houses going under contract the day or two after they list. How can we keep up with that pace and working full time? And living in an apartment again until you can find a new house. Woe is me and my vain self. But we know God provides if and when God calls. What a journey this has been as we learn about ourselves, our prayer lives, our dependency on each other, and even our vanity and lack there of. I honestly have found myself in a place I never could have imagined and it's a place where I have much more trust in myself and in God's ability to take something old (me) and make it (me) something new and better than before. His grace surely is enough to sustain me, and these 4 house walls are of the here and now are no longer a sustainer of my heart's content. I've learned I truly can part with these earthly items and that contentment comes outside of material gain. NOW, to see just how far God is going to take this for Ron and I. I have a lock box on my door, but have not yet committed to the sign in the yard. He has something in store, this I know, and I realize this process in and of itself may have been the true goal. I have so many of your praying for us in this, so I wanted to give you the update though I realize it is not all that informative as of yet.
I turned forty (absolutely no reflection on my mental disarray. smile). Yes, it happened. It is here and now it is gone as I guess I officially start my 41st year. As we all ask ourselves at this time point, "how in the world did we get here?" It seems just 5 years ago I was sitting in a wooden desk in a classroom trying to figure out if x = y then z = whatever it equals. Long gone are my blond pigtails and scraped up knees. Hello, wrinkled necks and floppy bellies. This week while sitting in a cafe, the waitress, in her 60s, was telling me about a plot with her 3 sisters to draw a line down the center of their chest and measure who has the saggiest boobs (I seriously don't know why she shared this with me but I think my telling her I just turned 40 started it. And how could I NOT share her story with you as well?). I almost broke out in a version of "do your boobs hang low..." but I quickly pulled myself together before embarrassing both her and myself. I got a great chuckle at this genius embracing of mid-age, and then got an even greater chuckle when I realized I certainly would lose (win?) that sag contest with boob 1 and boob 2.2 perfectly located where they should be ...well sort of, considering one implant has slipped out of place and the other is constricted up in a death grip of scar tissue. But all of that will be taken care of and I will soon be back to the victor of un-saggy impostors. Yep, another silver lining of mastectomy reconstruction. Still I encourage all of you to participate in this game of hilarity with your gal pals. Get out your magic markers and draw that line! Acceptance and tons of laughter. It sure does free up life for more important things!
Surgery #6 is approximately 3 months away (I could tell you the exact count-down but that would reveal it's role in my every day life, and I certainly don't want to admit defeat). It's not the dread of the procedure itself....ok, Sally, Shut up! It totally is the dread of the procedure. That stinking drain! My arch-nemesis. And then those stitches with Ron having to inspect the area every day to look for problems. The no showering. The surgical bra that turns into sports bras for weeks on end. The month long lifting restrictions. Blah, blah, blah. One would think that after 6 goes at this I would be much more embracing, just as I was lecturing to you just one paragraph above. I definitely can claim "most improved" in that, but am far from certified in this task. I do in fact dread this the least of all the surgeries, maybe that is a numbness of here-we-go-again, but it still sits on my mental calendar every day. I only thought about it twice on vacation so I am making strides which I openly celebrate.
Three months away - and somehow we might fit in selling a house, moving from a house, (moving into an apartment?) buying a house, and moving into a house all in that time frame before the lift restrictions come into play. Ron and I sure know how to keep things exciting (as we went to bed at 7:30 for the last two night in sheer exhaustion. Ok, so maybe we aren't all that exciting after all)! Thank you for your ongoing prayers for us as we seek out our role in God's plan.
Each month brings something new.
