Isn't it strange when God tells you to sell your dream house and you wrestle over it until you're really, really sure, then you put the dang thing on the market and get all excited about it and....nothing happens?And the days pile up, all sloggy-like; half-baked bricks tossed only in the general vicinity in such a way that they do not form straight lines and angles, but rather a haphazard pile-up. A muddy incline.
The days pile up and the sun finally begins to retreat just enough to allow for proper lung expansion and you know that the kids are starting school, which means that Summer must be dwindling, but you have opened the windows and the house smells alive again and the garden does not seem like such a far-away, remote jungle (even if it looks like one) and you remember all of the things you love about Summer and it feels like the very first day.
You remember that your house is for sale, but only because you see the digits at the end of the lane, Sharpied onto the sign with your very hand.The phone does not ring.
Your celebrity crush says that now is the worst time to sell a house in a decade, but hey, at least you heard it from him.
Still, you can't help thinking that this is not the way that it was supposed to happen, back when you knew you were going to do this crazy thing. Crazy stories are supposed to be obvious, undeniable, crazy. They should be page-turners. And ain't no one turning this page.
12 cookies are passed around the table at the Chinese Buffet. Your slip of paper reads like the Holy Spirit - "Right now you need to be patient." It also tells you the Chinese word for "Eggplant", which doesn't seem quite as significant.
You pray for patience, but your words belie a thinly cloaked plea to be released from the necessity of patience.You pray for truth to sustain you and the pages splay where they will and you are sure you will not find that shiny gemstone to drop into your pocket. And then you read, "Enlarge your house; build an addition. Spread out your home, and spare no expense!" (Isaiah 54:2) and you remember that God is the King of Funny, so you laugh and you pen a smiley face in the margin and hope for a sapphire or an emerald on another day.
And you wait.
And you worry, truth be told, just a little.
And you wait, knowing that every single day is one day closer to that crazy page-turner where with the flip of a wrist, an old chapter becomes new.
