Our
home had been on the market for almost a year. We thought our plans were good
ones. Downsizing seemed like the right choice and a good financial decision. Since
we had been dealing with some health issues and needed to start thinking about
a bit of a change, the plan seemed perfect.
But
nothing happened. We had a few nibbles but little that led us any further than
getting our hopes up for a few brief frustrating moments. We agonized over what
was the right thing to do according to God. Why wouldn’t He want us to do what
seemed the most sensible thing? Sell the house. Get rid of ‘stuff’. Reduce our
debt load. According to budgeting gurus we were making all the right decisions. Why
wasn’t our house selling? Turns out, God did know what He was doing and He was
about to make things very clear.
Then my father had a heart attack. He had been
managing decently in his own home, although my sister and I had been taking
turns caring for him and making it possible for him to stay there. It was a lot
of work, but we knew Dad valued his independence and we did whatever we could
to keep him happy, well-fed and safe.
But the
time had come to make a decision. Dad knew he needed more help. And there was
no way he would consider any type of extended care. His military background demanded certain things! Besides, I had made a promise to
my parents when I was young, to take care of them in their golden years.
Dad was
hesitant, at first, to admit that change was necessary. I can’t say I blame him.
In Ecclesiastes 3, the words poetically describe how there is a season for
everything. Not only that, there is a time for every purpose under heaven. I’m
thinking that not only Dad was shifting seasons, our purpose was shifting, too.
It wasn’t going to be easy for any of us. I had to give up my tutoring. Dad had
to give up a measure of his freedom. The decision was made. He would move in
with us.
It
meant many changes. And quick ones, yet. Dad needed to sell his home. We talked
about listing it, but then we thought about trying to sell it ourselves. Things
happened. A phone call was made and before we knew it, Dad’s house had sold
within the day. The day? Are you serious, God? That was my first reaction. We
had had our abode on the market for a year with nary a bite and Dad’s home
sells at the click of a phone. It didn’t seem fair.
But God
isn’t in the business of listening to my complaining and tantrums. Because He knows
the big picture and has a way of working all things out for good, He sometimes wisely
overrides our plans.
And
work it out, He did. We soon realized what God was up to. If we had sold our
house we would definitely have bought a smaller home and downsized
considerably. And if that would have happened we would not have been able to
have Dad come and live with us.
It’s
been almost two years now. Dad is nearing ninety. Things are working out well. We all had sacrifices to
make as we shifted seasons together. But when I think upon how God worked it
all out I am reminded of Isaiah 55:8-9.
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher
than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your
thoughts.”
I’m not
going to argue with that.
1 comment:
Thank you for sharing this part of your journey, Glynis. I remember way back making the connection between your house not selling and your dad coming to live with you, and how our Heavenly Father knew what was 'just around the corner.'
I guess the ". . . Best Laid Plans" are, in fact, made in Heaven. ~~+~~
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