Last fall was reminiscent of another decade or so ago, where real estate started doing strange things and ultimately our world tipped over on its side. Ken and a partner had incorporated a business in 2006, to begin building houses. We were working on two different banks and an investor; the 11 house plans for the neighborhood we were going to build in were firmly ensconced in my brain. I drove to Dunwoody for real estate school and pinned my license with a start-up in Dallas, along with my sweet Daddy (who was the epitome of care for his clients). The economy had been thriving, houses were being gobbled up (along with their crazy mortgages) and building was good. Ken had built several houses and was ready to go out on his own.
When the bottom fell out, we had a mortgage, lots of doctor bills from a near-death experience of Ken's, and three of our four children still at home. God spared us, because we never actually started up our business -- we would have lost our home, for sure. It was about a four-year dip into hell for our family. There is no explaining how we came out of that intact, except to say that yes, Virginia, there is a God.
I've since wrestled with the tension between trusting myself and trusting God. Trials can make you better or they can make you cynical, or worse. We all know that there's death, taxes, trials, and uncertainty...but if you live long, you figure out that you are not the master of the universe. There are so many things that we can't control. And even the things that we can, well, what's this with my back aching and all those new wrinkles?
I've been running a marathon, no, not with my legs (well mostly, I have climbed about a hundred flights of stairs these last few months. But the scale definitely hasn't gone down). A two-year development deal that just won't close. Another friend's home (and their "new home" they are buying) over the last six months that just. won't. close. As I was sitting in a lawyer's office yesterday, getting one of my sons' home sold and a new one bought (with a new baby, homeschooling three verrrry energetic elementary children, and 10 Golden Retriever puppies to boot), I looked about. There was my daughter-in-love sitting by me, exhausted, trying to feed her feverish baby. My son, the effervescent youth pastor, keeping the room light and giving joy to all the people across the table. My mortgage lender gal, who is now my dear friend, situated on the other side, speaking kindness and showing up even though her husband is very seriously ill. During this three hours, I was getting texts from the friend who is trying to close the other deal, which seemed to be falling apart (it hasn't yet - hope springs eternal). We closed my son's homes and headed to their new house, giant Golden Retriever in the back...and pulled up to scads of people helping them unload. In short order, the trucks were empty and the house was full.
I was exhausted. Emotionally, physically, mentally. Not really any help to anyone at that point. I took a break to sit down on the newly-placed couch in the living room. It was hushed, calm, cool in there, as everyone else ran around. My granddaughter Addison, her cute little 5-year old ginger self, plopped down beside me on the couch and chattered like a magpie. I looked at those sweet blue bunny eyes and remembered her Daddy at that age, which was what, last week? We had the sweetest visit. I thought about all the old ladies in my past life who would sit and talk to the children or maybe just sit. I think I might be starting to understand that -- and it's hard to think that at some point I might begin to disappear. Truth is, we will all disappear someday, at least to the people down here. I mean, do you know or remember your great-great-great Grandma? I doubt it. Did she matter? Yes, of course she did. Her wake follows her, good or bad, even though you don't know her from Adam. I believe in God and in eternity, but we got this tangled tapestry going on that can seem mighty crazy, earth-side.
The week I've had defies description, with emotions, twists and turns. As I sit and ponder (yes, I'm sitting again and probably drinking, haha!), the many levels of commotion that ensued and things that undid folks (and I)... stuff that was just part and parcel of living on a cracked planet, what was precious, sweet and enduring was the thread of God's Spirit that I saw through the good, the bad, the ugly. I saw kindness, forgiveness, rest, even when things weren't resolved with a slice of cherry pie. There is grace. And once again, there is a Redeemer. I was blind, and now I see.
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