I was driving through town today looking at all the for-sale signs on houses, all the desperate pleas from builders of new McMansions. Price Reduced! Steal a home below builder's cost! We pay closing costs!
(There, if that doesn't bring the spambots, nothing will ...)
Really, though, I started thinking. I loved owning my own little home. I put in natural-cherry colored floors and painted the ceilings peach to accentuate the sloping ceilings, and the walls khaki and butter yellow and the trim ivory. I installed light fixtures and sewed curtains and painted cabinets. I planted russian sage and phlox and woolly thyme, hyacinths and daffodils. I got crabapple blossoms and lilacs every year for my birthday.
I cried when we locked the doors for the last time and thought of pioneers and told myself, I'm not the first woman ever to leave home for her husband.
And we left behind one of those hopeful for-sale signs and waited. We got offers and accepted them and then they fell through, over and over again. Four times we fell out of escrow, before all was said and done. And the whole time we were praying that we could please, please sell this house.
In between the third and fourth fall-throughs, we took a two-year break and rented it out. This spring it finally sold.
Now I can look back and see so much more clearly. If that house had sold in 2003 or early 2004, we would have made almost nothing but bought a home here at the top of the market, probably on an interest-only loan. It would have fallen in value by today and we could easily be upside-down in a mortgage. And in less than a year there are very good chances that we will need to move, either north a ways so G and I can split a commute, or somewhere else entirely. And we would be so sadly stuck.
Instead of that sad situation we have a good little egg socked away from the sale of the condo, a cozy home to rent for much cheaper than a mortgage payment, and only excitement -- not dread -- about what we will do when G completes his Ph.D. and we need to move (maybe). How blessed are we!?!?
I heard someone say, once, "Well, I'm not doing the church thing and everything is still going fine for me. My life is great."
I think Heavenly Father doesn't necessarily always bless us because we do what's right. We do what's right because we see his hand and love him, and are grateful.