paragraphs over here.
You haven't heard much from me because we've been walking down a hard road for the last few months. And, me, trying to act all tough, felt that somehow I couldn't be vulnerable with you all about it. It's funny how you look back at decisions you've made and think, "boy, that was pretty dumb". In fact, I'd venture to say that I've approached pretty much every "big" icky thing in my life that way.
And I'm sick of it. I'm done putting up a front. It's time for a little much-needed honesty.
I usually wait to share something until after it's over. You know, it's like a story, right? You want to give a nice little intro, then into the meat of the drama, and wrap it all up with a picture perfect ending. But, my life isn't a story. It's a journey. So I'm just going to jump in, feet first, and let go of appearances.
I can honestly say to you, without exaggeration, that this journey to find a home has been one of the most defining challenges of my adult life. Which I read and think "really? That feels pretty dramatic...", but oh if you'd seen my soul for the last six months, if you could peel back my bones and see the way that my heart, my soul, and my mind have changed, you wouldn't have a second of doubt about the sincerity of that statement. But it's been a hard, and at times, heartbreaking road.
We put our house on the market on March 2nd, and it sold in two days. It was over our asking our price, and we were ecstatic! Though this sounds like the beginning of our journey, it really wasn't. We'd been working on getting our house ready with any and all "spare time" that we had as parents (what's that again??) since early September. By the time March rolled around, we were exhausted and completely depleted emotionally and physically. But we prayed and prayed, and our friends and family helped and helped, and miraculously, we were able to get it on the market. So to sell in two days was a HUGE blessing! But, we also started to feel nervous since we had some pretty specific things we were looking for in our next home and had thought it would take longer to sell our home and thus, give us longer to look for the next Lindstedt Homestead.
So, we looked. And looked. And looked.
Houses came and went, but nothing met what we needed, or fulfilled the very specific promises we felt that God had given to us for our next home (I'll explain more about this later).
So we looked some more.
Our friends and family scoured realty websites, and set up group chats to share options. I spent countless hours doing drive-bys for possible houses, all the while trying to be present parents AND pack up our entire house into two big blue boxes. If you ever want a good cry, packing up everything you own, your entire life, to place it into a box to be shipped away until who knows when, will definitely do the trick. I think I had permanently swollen eyes the last few weeks at 613.
Still, no house.
And I will be very very honest with you right now. I was mad at God. Like, actually angry. Not the kind of angry where you throw and kick and scream, but the hurt anger, the kind where you feel like you put your deepest trust in something and it just didn't pan out. I felt alone and angry, and wondering why God had given us these promises... wondering if I'd just made them up, maybe they weren't from God after all. Wondering why I was uprooting my poor babes who'd only knew their home as this house. But, for the first time in my adult life, I allowed myself to be angry with God, while still asking Him to help me. Instead of letting that anger and hurt build and separate me from Him, instead of letting that distrust fester, I brought it right back to Him. Sometimes I only had to do it once or twice a day. Some days it seemed like every minute I had to surrender it to Him.
Yes, it was only a house. But it really isn't about that, is it? It's about thinking God is telling you to do something, gives you promises and hopes for a future, and then when you step out in faith to do what He asked you to do, you fall flat on your face. No house, no promises, no place to call home.
So. We kept seeking a house. But now, we were equally seeking God in that.
And then moving day came. Still no house. Early on in our house search Ryan had shared that he had a premonition that we wouldn't find our house until we moved out of our house. I had scoffed at him, but as I sat for one last time in our freshly cleaned and empty house, hot tears rolled down my face as I asked God to "increase my faith", because I was at my wits end.
We sold our home on April 20th, a month and a half after we listed it, 9 months since we'd started prepping it for sale. We were incredibly blessed to be able to move in with Ryan's parents, who graciously opened their home to us and have never once made us feel like outsiders in their house. We have been welcomed with open arms, and in a time with so much turmoil and constant change, it has been a much-needed refuge. We will forever be grateful for the invaluable gift of a home that they've given us through this.
And here I sit, on May 15th.
Still, no house.
And as I sit here, opening up my messy life to you, I am reminded how many times the bible references heaven as our home. And even more importantly, it makes sure to caution us that this world is NOT our home. So, on my hardest days, I take peace in that. Our home isn't here, our home is somewhere else. And while my home-body-loving-self is itching to set my feet in the house that we will call home, I know, even that home, will not be our true home.
It's been a long almost-month. 12 hour work days, 2+ hour commutes, children with behavior and emotional issues, exhaustion, and many lost hopes over would-be houses are just some of the hurdles that we've had over the last few weeks. But we continue to push into God, daily, even moment by moment. I can't remember the last time I've relied so heavily on Jesus to carry me through. And that, that is not messy. It's hard, and it's crazy, but it's not messy, it's beautiful.
I kept waiting to post this picture, because I had hoped so greatly to share this story with you when we were safely on the other side, but life doesn't work like that. We need to share our journeys in the messy middle, not the picture perfect end when all of the answers have been given and we live happily ever after.
It was storming when I started writing this, raining hard, with no let up in sight. And the clouds just cleared, the sun is starting to poke through and the birds are coming back out to sing. I guess every rain ends... But until then, I will praise Him in the storm.
