Home Improvement – Part VIII

The sunset last night was spectacular. I was heading home after running errands, trying to repeatedly check the sky while going 70 mph. Every time I glanced west, however, an obstacle flew in between me and the beautiful sunset – a stand of trees, a semi truck, a hill, a sound barrier wall. It was difficult to get a good look, but when I got one, it made me want another.

Our journey through life can be much like a drive home. Instead of looking for the sunset, though, we’re looking for God. The trouble is we can only get a quick glimpse here and there, just like my staccato looks at the sunset. Obstacles seem always to be in the way. If we do get a look, however, it’s a strong motivator to keep watching for the next God-sighting.

Nate and I hadn’t gotten a glimpse of God for quite a while as we tried to sell the house that wouldn’t. The 2008 holiday season had come and gone, and although we had a live contract, both of us expected it to unwind.

The twenty-something couple wanting to move in had low-balled us by $60,000. The rapidly spiraling real estate market had devalued the house nearly four times that amount already, but getting something was better than nothing. As the calendar marched toward our closing date, they suddenly asked for an extension. I said to Nate, “See? It’s all unraveling.”

But he said, “Extensions are common in the real estate business. It’s too soon to panic.”

On the last day of the extension, the buyers asked for a second one, several weeks hence. On the last day of that one, they asked for a third. Where were those glimpses of God’s colorful, spectacular work “between the obstacles?” I asked Nate if he could press the buyers’ lawyer for the reason behind all the extensions. It turned out his clients had been on a ski holiday and then gone to the Caribbean.

But finally we got a firm closing date. Our realtor assured us it would happen this time and urged me to start packing, which I did. With help from unnumbered family and friends, in less than two weeks the house stood empty, and it was our last day there.

While Nate was handling the closing, I was at the house doing a final cleaning. The rooms had never looked better, every wall freshly painted, the windows washed, carpets pristine, wood floors gleaming.

Walking through the rooms for the last time, I knew the new owners were on the way, keys in hand. But “our” home was tugging at my heart strings, flooding my mind with nearly 30 years of memories. How could I just walk out the front door and leave it all behind? As always when in desperate circumstances, I asked God, “What do you want me to be thinking right now?”

And right then he let me have a quick glimpse of him.

(…to be continued)

“Give me a sign of your goodness… for you, Lord, have helped me and comforted me.” (Psalm 86:17)

3 thoughts on “Home Improvement – Part VIII

  1. Margaret,

    I found a clue my “missing a glimpse of God” in your first paragraph, I often try to do it while racing through life at 70 miles per hour. It is not the hills, trucks, etc. that impede my view; it is my speed and continual distractions. All the roads bordering the Grand Canyon are 25 MPH. However the only way for me to view the GC is to get out of the car and hike into the canyon. Then I not only see but experience the GC. Invariably I ask myself, why did I take so long to come back here? It only takes a day to drive up here, hike down to the CO River and out, and drive back home. Has it already been a year since I was last here?

    Luke 11:31 The Queen of the South will rise at the judgment with the men of this generation and condemn them; for she came from the ends of the earth to listen to Solomon’s wisdom, and now one greater than Solomon is here.
    Regards,
    AFH

  2. Wow, you left us in suspense! I love the connection you made between your drive home and how it feels to look for God. I’ve also never seen the photos in this post, with the house all empty. So strange! I wish we could see what it looks like now. Miss you and love you, as always.

  3. Our own rule is to never visit a former home lest we be heartbroken. We did it once and found it was not well cared for. Never again. We move our family memories with us – and that includes a child watching the clouds go by lying on the slanted cellar door. Noone can change our memories of former homes.