It's our home, after all.
I've had a lot of "are we doing the right thing?" thoughts this week. People move for a lot of reasons, many of them uncontrollable -- their jobs change, their family needs them "back home," they can't take the winters anymore. Our reasons feel somewhat "first-world" to me -- we want more space (a guest room, maybe an office, maybe a media room, more closet space), our neighborhood has seen some decline. Our house is perfectly adequate. Lovely, even. My heart has felt guilty (of course) about wanting more than I really need.
Yesterday, though, I decided to let that go. Because there's a reason we've been led to do this. There's merit in going after something that will make us happier, no matter if others might call it superficial. Maybe there's a reason we don't even know, but God led us here. He knows we've wondered and wrestled and yes, asked for His help in deciding to move. So it's okay. There's nothing to worry about. Did I tell you that 2 Sundays ago when I was in the throes of this worry, the Gospel reading was, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, or about your body, what you will wear...." and "Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself." I mean, if I was looking for an answer from God, there it was.
Yesterday, also, when I arrived home with the kids, there was a police car parked directly in front of my house. He was ringing the bell of the (rented) house next door to me (newish neighbors that we've not even really met.). He stayed there on her front porch talking to the lady who lives there for half an hour. Filled out some paperwork in his car. Went back up to the door. A second police car had pulled up as well. My other neighbors and I all peeked out our windows.
No idea what it was about, nor do I care to know. And I realize cop cars can come visiting in any subdivision, any city, any time. It may not have been a sign, but
No comments:
Post a Comment