Home Sweet Home

Did I ever mention that I bought a house? I did. I am a homeowner. After renting an apartment for twelve years, eleven of them in the same apartment, it was time.  It was quite a journey, from being newly divorced and working two jobs to make ends meet in 1997 to buying a house in October 2009.  God really did a work there.  Not only did He have to get me through some really rough stuff financially, especially in those early days, He had to convince me that I was capable of whatever He put in my heart to do--with His help of course. Anyone who knows me very well knows that I have not exactly exhibited an abundance of self-confidence.  That said, just know that my buying a house is a BIG DEAL.

God had been dealing with me for months before I even started house-hunting.  He urged me to start packing up Jeff's room; a good place to start since I obviously didn't use Jeff's stuff. Actually, Jeff didn't even use his stuff, since he moved to Virginia without the two six-foot bookshelves full of books (yes, he has that many books) and a closet full of clothes. That in itself is a story for another blog.  So, I began carting books to storage, even before I was officially looking for a house.

After months of searching, I found the right house and closed on the deal.  I became a homeowner.  Now if I could just stop shaking long enough to move.  Why was I shaking?  Oh, I forgot to mention:  I was terrified to move. I was so scared of living in a house.  My little second-floor apartment had been home to me for eleven years, and it was my comfort zone. I shifted into high gear: I started really packing and moving. A really good friend and her husband and sons helped me all day on a Saturday, and I was in.  I had wall to wall boxes, but I was moved in.

That night after everyone was gone, I collapsed on the couch to rest and watch a little TV before bed.  I hadn't been afraid yet.  Hmm, that was strange.  It had been in the back of my mind all day, the fact that everyone would leave and I would be there all alone in a strange house.  As I sat there on the couch mulling this over, I heard the sounds of a group of children next door, having a lot of fun at their Halloween party. Ah, how nice.  It made it seem like a friendly, safe neighborhood. 

Wait a minute...Halloween?  Was the date really October 31?  At that precise moment, it hit me like a ton of bricks.  My first night to stay in my new house was October 31.  Unbelievable.  In case you haven't read some of my earlier blogs, this just happens to be my spiritual birthday.  I was radically saved on October 31, 1994, all alone in my living room.  It was a very dramatic "about face" for me.  I truly turned 180 degrees, from running away from God and all that He stood for to running into His loving arms and repenting.  I have never been the same.

As it began to sink in that God had purposely arranged for my first night in my house to be that particular day, peace enveloped me.  It occured to me that I was not afraid. I was sitting on my couch, just in awe of Him and praising Him for doing that for me, when He clearly said to me that He gave me this house, and He wouldn't put me in harm's way.  If  He gave it to me, which He did, then He was already here and He made it a safe place for me to dwell.

I love it when the God of the universe goes to the trouble of doing something that will be very special to me.  He knew that it would give me peace to know He did that for me. It's home sweet home because He picked it out and was already here when I got here.  My Father is awesome!