Choosing Faith over Fear

Our New Used Palomino
We did a thing. A thing that appears - and feels - quite outlandish. Brazen. Fool-hearty. Whimsical. Irrational. 

About six weeks ago, we put our house up for sale. Within a span of a mere few days we had interested buyers crossing the threshold of our front door. That lasted only one day before we had a full price offer on the table. 

So, then what? We began to sell our possessions and began making plans to buy an RV. To live in. 

We've sold as much as we can at two yard sales, on Facebook marketplace and to local friends and family. 

On Monday, August 17 we exchanged our Honda Odyssey for a Ford Expedition, and on Saturday of that same week we towed home our 2013 Palomino Thoroughbred Ultra-Lite. Our 30' foot tiny home on wheels. We backed it into our driveway on New St, stood back and began to laugh.

Well...that happened!

Now, with less than two weeks before we close the door on New St one final time, we wake up each day one day closer to a very different sort of life and we look around our house at our remaining stuff, figuring out how we will continue to minimize and get our family on the road with necessary belongings for the journey. 

Let's back up...

The memory is branded upon my mind. It was July 11. I woke up with a singular thought. The thought was latched to a locomotive that pulsed through my entire being. 

I got out of bed with a rare portion of vigor and clarity of mind, and these words erupted from within:

"I am done living in fear. I am not a victim. What am I going to do today to change my circumstances?"

The definition of insanity is to continue to do the same thing while expecting different results. 

I've said I want change, but have been doing very little to actually take ownership of my life in partnership with God. (I believe he's always the one leading and directing, but we are not his puppets; he expects us to use our agency for his glory and for our joy.).

I had felt "lost" for quite some time. Discouraged. Visionless. Aimless. Sleepy. A wanderer. 

Repeatedly, for quite some time, I confessed this to God, calling out for his help, his rescue. I waited. I persevered in my circumstances. I didn't often sense that God was meeting me in this place. It was a wilderness and I was looking for my door of hope - Jesus - to open up into more of a settledness, focus and vision. But it wasn't happening. 

During the days leading up to July 11, I was enjoying some stillness at home alone for the first time since COVID hit in March. I reached out to my God once again, sharing this burden of feeling "lost". 

Something was different this time. An overwhelming sense in my spirit confirmed that my Father came looking for me and he found me. Jesus is my Good Shepherd; I was a lost sheep. "Fear not little flock," Jesus said to his disciples, "for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." 

Sensing that that one of the chief means of that which was choking life from Amber and me was our house (repairs, excess possessions and clutter) and the isolation, comfort and false security it was forming in our hearts and minds and habits, we decided we needed to let go of our house - to put it up for sale and see what would happen. It was, we believe, a step of faith God was asking from us, because he had something better in store. "Obedience comes first, understanding can come later," a friend reflected .


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