Me and God have a history when it comes to houses. Newly married, my husband and I were building our dream home nine years ago. Mid-construction, God opened up the door for us to go into full-time ministry but that required us to give up the house.
And we said, “Yes God.”
After living with my parents, moving in and out of a roach infested apartment in a three week turnaround, and living in a cool, but tiny loft in the city, we finally purchased our first home. Certainly not my dream home, but a house nonetheless. I put blood, sweat, and tears into making resemble my dream as closely as possible, but God soon opened up the door for us to work at a church three hours away.
And we said, “Yes God.”
That journey found us living in a cute small cabin in the woods and then moving into the windowless church basement for almost a year, before we moved back to the area we had left, and rented a tiny old house from a friend.
None of the situations exactly ideal, but the Father always provided, and for that I was thankful. Then three and a half years ago, God blessed us with the house of my dreams, and I mean the house of my DREAMS. It’s a cool story, one that I will share with you someday. And like a four year old on her birthday, I gladly received my shiny new toy and placed it on a special shelf in my heart. The more I fell in love with my house, I began to find my identity in my house, and I found my fingers clenched tighter and tighter around it as something I could not picture myself without.
I no longer prayed “Yes God”, but began to pray “Yes God, as long as I can still have my house.”
This past year, God has been working in my heart and gently and lovingly prying my tightly gripped fingers off of my new toy. But this time, he didn’t ask me to give it up. He asked me to do something even harder. He asked me to share it.
And the four year old in me whined, “But’s it’s mine!” And then I read this article and it really messed me up.
And I quietly whispered, “Yes God.”
In June, we invited my sister and her two daughters to share our home and our lives as we learn to practice love as a lifestyle. It hasn’t been perfect or necessarily easy, but like a loving parent, the Father is teaching me how to share what He has given me.
So I choose to no longer hold His gift in a tight grip, but to stand with my arms stretched wide as I offer it back to Him.
And I once again pray, “Yes God.”