{ In Which There is Emotional Turmoil }

Random thought of the week, while snapping photos of Lainie at the beach: If I had a smartphone with a data plan and stuff, I bet I'd blog a lot more. I could just take pictures with my phone and upload them to my blog. None of this "create folder on computer, find download cable, find camera, download photos from camera, edit photos in Picasa, upload to blog, write cute post" business. I was as shocked to hear myself think that as you are to read it, Mike.

 

~*~*~

 

Anyway...

 

This week we looked at houses. More houses. Houses here and houses there. We've never "house-hunted" before. After we got engaged, we only looked at a couple condos {by ourselves, no realtor} before deciding to buy this one, and a friend who was a realtor at the time acted as our agent. Our priorities were different and our list of needs and wants was much shorter then, too. The thing that has surprised me the most so far is how sobering it is to look for a home. A large part of that is realizing the enormity of the decision: We commit to buy this house. To pay a lot of money for this bit of real estate. To live in this community. To say yes to this commute for Mike and these home improvements. We go in a home, and I immediately imagine myself living there...which is surprisingly hard to do. Why would I want to live here when I already have a nice, cozy, full-of-homeyness-home? I try to imagine cooking meals in this kitchen, sleeping in this bedroom, playing with Lainie on this living room floor, and it feels like brain surgery. For reals. Does anybody else have this problem?? And I'm not even thinking {yet!} about saying goodbye to the sweet little treehouse that has seen all our newlywed years, my first pregnancy, Lainie's infancy...all the painting and decorating, watching Hulu on laptops, our first Christmases and dinner parties and so many sweet memories.

 

If those aspects of house-hunting are sobering, the prices are downright discouraging. I know the Seattle area is one of the most expensive places in the country, but seriously?! It's hard to think of spending almost $300k on a house that needs work. And I don't think that's just me being persnickety. The mind boggles.

 

If only we didn't want to have a large family and thus require at least a three-bedroom...

 

Riiiiiight.  

 

I've been struggling with feeling like this is a deadly serious decision and we are either going to get it right {slim chance} or horribly, horribly wrong {entirely possible}. After our second round of house-looking, I went down to the beach with Lainie. I had a headache and really didn't want to make the effort to pack her up and go out. I forgot how windy and cold it is on the waterfront; we were both underdressed. Thankfully Lainie had fallen asleep in the car and was perfectly fine with two blankets {that's all I had with me} snugged around her in the stroller. I had this notion that I was going to read or journal or have this deep conversation with God about what lies ahead for us, but instead I just stared and did nothing. Tide out, noisy birds, lots of boaters, sun blinding white, kids shrieking on the playground.

 

 

:: it was bright as the Second Coming in reality, too ::

 

Lainie woke up pretty quickly. Once she got over her initial shock at the wind--I think it makes her feel like she can't catch her breath--she was utterly delighted to be out. She smiled and cooed nonstop, excited to look at everything and "talk." She's often upset to be in her carseat, and usually takes awhile to warm up to new situations, so her immediate, sustained pleasure and interest in our surroundings was a total kick for me.

 

:: happily watching clouds, trains, kids on the playground ::

 

:: loving our little adventure!! ::

 

 As we meandered down the beach, hopping from park bench to park bench, I had a growing awareness of Jesus' presence and Him telling me

 

Rest.

Rest in this: right here, right now.

Rest.

Trust Mike to make the right decision for your future, your home, and your family.

Rest in his leadership and his relationship with Me,

and then tell him you trust him to make those decisions.

Trust me. Trust Mike.

 

It wasn't audible words, just a really strong impression that I simply need to trust Mike to make these decisions and tell him so. Not in the "don't have an opinion, don't give him any input, don't prayerfully weigh the pros and cons" sense, but in the "I am confident that Jesus is directing us, and the final outcome will be exactly where Jesus wants us to be--it's not up to me to figure this out" sense.

 

It was a lot like when I knew I needed to let Mike decide what to name Lainie. Only this time I'm telling y'all so you can keep me accountable if you see me freaking out about houses and neighborhoods and such.

 

That night I told Mike. As he pointed out, it's not really a big deal, because it is exactly how I should approach this topic anyway. And yet it is a big deal, because it is so very opposite of the way my unruly heart wants to handle these unknowns. If you think of it, pray for us over these next weeks as we determine whether or not to move, where, and when. It's a lot harder emotionally, I think, than either of us was expecting; we have such close friends here, such an awesome community, and we really really love our church family. Neither of us is terribly excited about moving. Yet our good God is writing His story with our lives, and we know that wherever we are, we can rest in His care.