abide | meg marie | a word for the year 2017

We are still in the throws of house hunting and now that spring is here it’s becoming more and more of a sellers market. Houses move fast and the prices are still so incredibly discouraging which has made us rethink a lot lately about what we are realistically able to look for.

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The dream/hope of finding the perfect house is diminishing fast. Don’t get me wrong, I never intended to find ‘perfect’ as in there’s nothing wrong and everything is spectacular, but I did mean perfect in the sense that we would walk into a place and right away feel like we belonged there.

It’s just not happening.

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I know we could keep holding out, we could continue to be patient. But at this point I really believe that isn’t what is best, for my heart or our little church.

Last Tuesday we put an offer on a house we weren’t crazy about. Only to have found out four other people also did the same thing that day. Our offer was countered last night but for a price that is far more than what we are willing to pay.

We have no desire to be “house poor” by dumping every extra penny we have into a house. So when the paperwork came back we knew right away that door was closing.

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I wasn’t too sad because another home popped up in our email that was listed just yesterday morning. We loaded the kids up once again to go see and when I walked in I thought it was that perfect I’d been hunting for in so many ways.

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I could tell my heart was pulling me.

I want that kind of home.

I wanted so badly for that one to be “the one”.

Within seconds of stepping through the front door I began to imagine life there and where I’d put each piece of furniture. The kids started playing hide and seek (don’t worry, it was empty) and I imagined playing hundreds more games in that sweet space.

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But it too was priced over the budget we feel comfortable spending.

The answer is no.

We are back to square one.

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As we drove home I felt angry.

And hopeless.

I feel like this process is one of truly laying down every desire we have in what we’d ask for or dream of in a home. It’s tempting to just shut off my heart and simply go with the facts and pick something just because of what is practical.

I am having trouble believing that there is something out there for us that we could truly love.

But if I’m honest what’s even harder is that nights like that night I wonder if He even still remembers us.

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I write often about making a home wherever we are no matter how small, how old or how run down a place is, about finding my hope not in the material things that life can offer, and how the dream of planting this church supersedes my desire to find a home I love…not because I’ve arrived in some way.

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I write because I know my heart is weak. It can often deceive me.

I long for a home. A place to call ours. I’ve hoped for that for as long as I could remember.

Since I was a little girl.

I want to settle in somewhere and know I get to stay.

But I need to continually remember throughout this process my deepest convictions and where my heart truly rests.

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My desires cannot be found in any home, however lovely or however perfect. My desire is to move into this city and exhaust my life for the sake of whoever comes across my path.

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What that means practically is we now want to just focus on living in the same city we are planting this church in. We need to do whatever is necessary to develop relationships in and among the community where we live. Our current situation of “commuting in” isn’t working for anybody.

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I want to be hospitable not because I have a house I’m proud of but because I am far more concerned about people and souls, than stuff.

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I want to live in and among the broken and intentionally seek out the lost…developing relationships and friendships that are life giving…rather than worrying about what color my carpet is.

I desire my life to be light and a blessing wherever the Lord places us no matter old the kitchen feels is or how ugly the paint is.

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This is a journey for sure and last night served as another huge fork in the road for me: will I grow distant and hard hearted believing the lie that He isn’t concerned for us?

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Or will I remain steadfast, looking to Him alone to satisfy?

 

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Through tears and with a heavy soberness I say: my hope and my home is found in Christ alone and today I choose to rest, trust and draw near.

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Thankfully, His steadfast love never ends and His mercies are new every morning.

 

My soul continually remembers and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,“therefore I will hope in him.”

Lamentations 3: 20-24

DRESS: Express || SANDALS: (similar below)  || HAT: Target


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