Stuck in a Moment

"And I was not just the age I was then but all the ages I had ever been."
-A Family Place by Leila Philip

I am still waiting for the phone call that will determine if we will get the house we put an offer on. It's the only house in a five mile radius that I want. We've been playing poker all week, dickering over my family's future. We've delivered our final offer and we've been left dangling now for two days. And now it is after five on Friday and you can guess what that means too.

You wouldn't believe the things that have gone through my head this week while I wait for the call of destiny. The way I've wrangled about what it says about God if we get this house. What it says about us. What it says about our choices and the things that have brought us to this point.

I don't believe that God is beholden to the American dream. I don't believe for a second that He owes me anything. I, in fact, owe Him everything. But I also know that He is a tender God, occasionally giving his children their hearts' desire just because He loves us. And that's why it wouldn't be uncharacteristic of Him to make this happen.

I'm not sure if I'm alone in my obsession with home ownership. And by that, I mean being owned by a place. I grew up belonging to a place and until I read that quote above just a moment ago, while trying to relax a bit and stop waiting....well it was that moment and those were the words that revealed why I feel it so. It's that "home" is the place where I was a little girl and a grown up. And when I visit there, I can be both of them at once. (I take the same pictures every time I visit, it seems!)

I want that desperately for my children. To have a place that connects all of the selves that they are over the years so that they can stand up and know who they are when the time comes. There are a lot of forces out there that want to decide who you are for you, but having a sense of place, a sense of where you come from...that gives you something extra to face life with.

A friend suggested to me that Robb and I could give that to our kids by just loving them and being there for them. I think Robb is made that way. He says that I am home to him. But I don't trust myself. I am too moody, too emotional. I find comfort in the predictability of a place...the way the sun rises and shines in a certain window in a certain way in a certain season. The way the wind smells at a certain time each day. The way a tree gets larger than life until you are so accustomed to it that only when it is lost to a storm or disease that you realize it was like a friend.

I don't know what will happen. It's been such a long saga. I can't imagine what it would be like to be in a home again. To make memories. To make friends with a house again. I'm afraid a little bit, like I was the first night I had my own room when I was 13 years old. I know it's good and I want it. But I'm also inexplicably sad.

I keep trying to picture how I'll take it if we get a "NO." I don't know. For now, I'm just going to sit in this moment between.