I felt like God wanted me to pray for a house. He didn’t give me any details other than “pray
for a house.” So I began praying, thinking
that perhaps God was going to open up a way for me to work in or start up a
Christian coffee house which was a dream I had been passionate about in the
past. One day I mentioned to my boss
that I had started praying for a house which he found to be interesting. I work for FIU-MDC Wesley (a Christian
organization for college students). He
went on to share his thoughts about developing a Christian community house as
part of our campus ministry.
A few months later, after more prayer and discussion, I started
looking at real estate near the FIU MMC campus.
It wasn’t easy. Some houses were
too far from campus, too small, kinda shady, kinda fancy and out of our budget
etc. Right before I left Miami to go
home to be with my family during the summer I found “the house.” God had waited to the last minute but He
pulled through. Multiple bedroom, close
to campus, reasonable rent…perfect.
I ventured the 17 hour drive to my homeland with a month of
relaxation in sight before coming back to move into my new place. Amidst my month of running through the woods
and hollers of my farm I received a phone call saying the lease had fallen
through which meant no house for Wesley.
That in turn meant no job for me since I was returning to Miami to be
the House Director.
God let everything crash and burn. All the houses I had looked at were for
nothing. I had opted not to interview
for other opportunities because I was returning to Miami for another year with
Wesley. I had even received words of
encouragement about the plan for the house from people I trust to be honest
before God and people. When I finally
thought I had found God’s will and was in God’s plan I had gotten it all wrong. To say the least I was upset.
I questioned whether I even knew God’s voice anymore. In my mind I had already fought the fight
against doubt and fear. I had struggled
with the question of returning to the city when I viewed myself as a girl with
a heart for the open land of the country.
I had thrown in my hand because I thought God gave me the signal. Had I read His signal all wrong? I believed that I knew Him. Either I didn’t understand Him or He let me
lose on purpose.
While my mind was replaying the rug being pulled out from
under me, other more hopeful conversations were happening 17 hours south. To cut to the chase, within less than 2 weeks
we had another house which was bigger and better than the first. We also had 3 commitments on people who
wanted to live there with more soon to follow.
I’m not saying all stories are meant to have a crash and burn with a
drastic turn around. But, we can cling
to this: “Unless the LORD builds the house, the builders labor in
vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling
for food to eat—for he grants sleep to those he loves.” (Psalm 127: 1-2)
Now I am living in this experiment in Christian
community. I have been here for a little
over 5 months. I battled for the house
against an army of ants – no joke. I
have laughed till it hurts. There have
been times when I cried myself to sleep.
I’ve been pushed to love more. My
tendencies to be OCD about organization and neatness have been tested. So far I have seen 3 coffee pots live here, become
perhaps a bit too fond of Cuban espresso, and shared family dinner with people
from across the US/world. The story
continues…
Julie
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