A house, by most, is considered an asset.
For years, after losing our house in Temecula, California in 1997, purchasing another was a big part of every prayer request I sent up to the Father on my family’s behalf. I was overcome with the idea that our family needed to buy a house for security’s sake. If I’m being honest, I can admit now, that pride and insecurity were fueling those prayers. The request I finally settled on and continued to ask until God answered was – Lord, please give us a house in the place where you would have us be. It was a convenient fleece, I would get my desire and He would get His. I wanted to own a house badly enough to be willing to accept wherever it was… so long as that place was in the US and warm and beautiful and mostly conservative so I wouldn’t have to live outside of my comfort zone.
Our amazing God puts up with so much from me.
Eleven years later we found ourselves in the Texas Hill Country signing escrow papers. Our very own asset! We could not have been happier. God had come through again, my husband and I agreed.
I understand so much more about myself today, and at the same time, so much less about Him. God becomes bigger and bigger to me the longer I know Him. I do not understand His ways or His timing. His big picture planning confuses me.
I sit in this house that we prayed for and look around. I love it and hate it at the same time.
I love the home, the views, the landscape, the neighborhood, the city, the surrounding area, the people, and so on. It’s all we ever dreamed of and yet…
I hate that it is our comfort zone and our hiding place.
I hate that we, all people, have a tendency to judge others on what they have instead of who they are at their core.
I hate that this house, this life we’ve made here, has been our security at times instead of the Almighty.
I hate that at every turn something is breaking, simply falling apart, and needs our attention and finances. I’d rather spend what I have on people not assets.
I hate all sin that brought decay into the world because it has had its way with the things I own and with me too. Lately, more than ever.
This month I turn 55 years old. I’m positive this fact is not as shocking to you as it is to me. Well maybe shocking is not the right word, troubling, frightening, disheartening, maybe even emboldening would better fit in its place.
I’m a whole lot closer to seeing the face of Jesus than I was twenty years ago. I have less, as far as time, to offer the King but so much more as far as determination.
I do not want to spend the next ten to fifteen years paying off this house, fixing the inevitable decay of both the house and my body, only to find myself at age seventy feeling too old or too tired to do the things I was actually created by God to do. I am so tired already of wasting the one life He gave me on the things this world says makes a life. It is so easy to fall into a trap, to think the things of earth are far more important than they truly are. The truth is, those things are just more costly.
The only debt I want to owe is love.
What I read in the Word of the Way and what I see in life don’t match up. Changes clearly have to be made to live a life that warrants a “Well done” from my King.
I have to wonder, am I the only one struggling with thoughts like these?