It’s not yet 6 am but I’m wide awake. My mind races, exploding with writing thoughts. I tiptoe to my den, turn on the laptop. For the last hour I’ve lain in bed half-praying.
We’re moving in a month. We’ve been in this house for 23 years, 31 in the city. Our 3 children have grown. One by one they left the north and settled in southern Ontario. It took two years of planning, two years of purging, which will continue till the day we close the hatch on the moving truck and begin the 8 hour journey to our new home. We took the plunge, bought a house, gave away a mountain of sports equipment left behind by the kids. Soon I’ll pack my library of books. Too many books my husband says. How can you possibly need all of them?
One major glitch remains. Our present house hasn’t sold. We repaired, painted and replaced, placed it on the market. Great house, you won’t have any problem selling it everybody says. But we are having trouble selling it. We’ve prayed and believed for a buyer. Our friends have prayed and believed. We let Him in on everything in our lives, even the little things.
This is no small thing. It looms immoveable as a mountain. This morning as the sun rises, I slip my hand into Christ’s, lace my fingers through His and listen to Him say in a matter-of-fact way:
“Yes—and if you embrace this kingdom life and don’t doubt God, you’ll not only do minor feats like I did to the fig tree, but also triumph over huge obstacles. This mountain, for instance, you’ll tell, ‘Go jump in the lake,’ and it will jump. Absolutely everything, ranging from small to large, as you make it a part of your believing prayer, gets included as you lay hold of God.” Matthew 21:21,22
So, I’ve told my house to jump in the lake.