Last summer, my husband and I took a bold step and sold our home of 10 years to purchase our dream home out in the country. We’d been watching this house for sometime, and came to find out it was going into foreclosure. For those that haven’t purchased a home in this stage, it’s an arduous process, including lots of conversations with attorneys, banks and the like. From June until August, we expended A LOT of energy into this home, and were elated when we were finally able to close and move in. We loved our new home…for about a week.
I can’t say there was a specific incident that turned our hearts, but over time, we came to find that we weren’t meant for this home. We missed our friends, and the conveniences of “the city” (our nearby town, population 100,000). We felt trapped by the house and all that was required to maintain it and the 2 and half acres it sat on. While our children found great friends in our nearby neighbors, arranging play dates with the kids at their new school was always challenging. Our faith-life suffered too, as we became less frequent church goers. What we thought was going to be a simple life, in fact, was not at all.
The funny thing is…if you’d asked my husband Aram, he would tell you he knew this move was wrong for us, before it even happened. In his gut, he could tell it wasn’t right. Unfortunately, I felt the same, but did nothing about it. When it came down to it, we’d invested so much time and effort into getting the house, we didn’t want to admit that it had been a mistake to move there in the first place.
It came down to Pride.
Pride is neither good nor bad, but defined in context. For us, pride told us that we needed a bigger house, and a larger lawn. Then, the concerns of what others would think if we didn’t move after sharing the news publicly. We allowed ourselves to get caught up in the things of this world, and lost focus on what matters: loving God and others, and living each day authentically for His glory. Thank goodness for His grace!
We lived in our Country House for a short 6 months. Yep, 6 months. Over lunch one day, I shared with my mom that we weren’t happy, and that we were going to start the process of selling the house. Having spent time at the house visiting, my parents found that they truly did enjoy the lifestyle. So we decided to swap. In January of 2014, we moved into my childhood home, and are now in the process of making it our own. It’s been a challenging, but fun process, and I consider myself blessed that our situation worked out as well as it did. It certainly could have been worse.
Pride is an innate part of all of us. We need to be cognizant of the decisions we make, and prayerfully consider whether its for the glory of God, or for our own personal glory here on Earth. It is important that we regularly pray and take purposeful steps to ensure that our pride doesn’t get in the way of the Holy Spirit’s movements in us.
Today, and every day. Have a fantastic weekend and a very happy Independence Day! Xo, Katy
[etsy.com via pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/194499277629988000/]
“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” – Romans 8:28
Last week I was running errands for work. Coming back to the office, I was driving on a road I don’t typically travel. Up ahead of me, I saw a trio of boys on bicycles on the sidewalk, the oldest probably aged 10 or so. I smiled, thinking of my own kids at home, wondering what they were doing in that moment.Then, as it happens, something in my gut told me to pay attention. I watched the two older boys dart across the road, arriving safely at the other side.
I slowed down when it became clear the youngest boy was going to follow their lead, and ride out into the road. Unfortunately, the truck that was coming in the lane next to me didn’t share my intuition. In what felt like slow motion, I pounded my horn, furiously motioned to the little boy to STOP, all while yelling “stop,” hoping…praying…he would hear me. I felt utterly hopeless, unable to do anything to save this child from heartbreaking fate.
At the last second, the truck saw the little boy and swerved to miss him, by only inches.
I collapsed in my seat, heart pounding, tears streaming, overwhelmed. Thankful.
In that moment, I saw God. I was helpless to do anything for that little boy, and in panic, I cried out to God. As is often the case, when I try to do things on my own, depending only on myself, I fail. In this terrible moment, I was reminded of that important lesson. I can’t do this life on my own. I need God, and I need to trust that he will take care of me. He took care of that little boy. He’ll take care of you too.