We've talked about moving for a long time, but every time it came down to making a decision, it never felt right. When Brad started seminary, the decision was whether to stay here and take courses at the extension or move to New Orleans so he could be on campus, take more classes, and be done in a more timely manner. We decided to stay here.
After Brad's first mission trip to Alaska, he felt sure, well almost sure, we would end up there one day. That scared the bejeezers outta me. So, once again, we decided to stay here.
I have come to learn something about me. Fear has a powerful hold on my life. And that stinks, because fear and faith cannot coincide.
I struggle with getting out of my comfort zone, leaving the things most comfortable to me, and I imagine myself to be worse than most anybody.
This move is not to Alaska, not to New Orleans, heck, it's not even out of this city, or even this neighborhood (ha!). But we are moving. Different house, same neighborhood.
Huh?
If you remember, about a year ago my in-laws came to live here. They moved from north Alabama and bought a house in this neighborhood. Well, they've decided to go home. And they offered us their house.
For almost nothing, (in house terms anyway).
So there we were again, talking and praying, praying and talking about moving, but this time it was two streets over. Don't laugh when I tell you I still struggled with the decision! The real estate market stinks, what were we going to do if our house didn't sell? We can't afford two house notes! And besides this house needs sooo much work before even being put on the market. There were so many unknowns, and I was scared.
After much prayer, talking to friends and family, consulting 3 accountants and 1 lawyer (yes, we go overboard), we decided we could not pass this opportunity up.
I know it's not Alaska, but as I said in a previous post, maybe God is stretching my faith in baby steps, gradually moving us to where we are supposed to be.
I'm excited to share this journey with you.
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