Creekside Garden

We all know the internet is a dangerous place to share thoughts and feelings. Nothing is private or safe. Writing online is often raw honesty standing bare on the stage of the world. What is shared to the internet lives forever, and to pretend otherwise is sheer foolishness.

Nevertheless, the allure of seeing my thoughts sent out into the world and the bizarre hope I find in shouting my message into this black hole with the small chance someone might enjoy it – gives me an excuse to continue. So I will continue writing honestly until I know it is time to stop.

I have a longing. A deep longing in my soul that gets louder everyday. It feels foolish, because God has proven that he cares for our needs and there is nothing I am truly lacking. I am deeply thankful for a roof over my head, a freezer full of meat, a hardworking (handsome 🙂 ) husband, healthy babies, and reliable vehicles. My blessings exceed my needs. But there is a WANT inside of me that almost feels like a calling. It is so important that to ignore it feels like disobedience. To want something this badly feels like I’m doing something wrong.

I want a home of our own, badly.

We have been pre-approved for a mortgage, have a realtor on speed-dial, and our finances (mostly) in order. We could be in a house of our choosing in town by next fall. All we need to do is pull the trigger.

Yet, there is a pause in our momentum. A gut check. A hesitation.

Why? I don’t know.

Do I want to much? Maybe.

The idea of moving to town after living 2 hours from Costco doesn’t excite me like it should. It isn’t my identity to live out here, to be honest it’s a big pain in the butt. A simple errand requires a TREK and we don’t have any friends/community or belong to a good church. Moving to town is the smartest and most obvious decision we can make.

I want land. Not an 8th of an acre, not a picket fence yard with three chickens.

LAND

Space for our boys to run. Muddy boots, cows crawling through fences, foxes getting into the chicken house, frozen livestock water tanks. I crave it like a pregnant woman craves pickles and ice cream.

And a house in town feels like broccoli.

It feels silly to admit this craving, but I can’t ignore it. I have tried to drown it out, block my thoughts, and focus my energy on finding the broccoli. But I can’t stop thinking about garden dirt and apple trees. Riding horses bareback in fresh snow.

Our banker told us, “well, everyone wants land.”

Ben looked at her and said, “not as much as we do.”

He told no lies.

It simultaneously feels like the only thing we are supposed to do and completely impossible. We don’t know where to go and everything feels like a bad idea. Fear of making the wrong decision and ending up in a worse situation keeps us from taking the next step.

I don’t want land to be cool, to fit in, or to flex something. I simply want land because my soul needs it. A need I feel wrong admitting to. As if I am justifying discontentment – I am truly content where we are. But being content with spaghetti while simultaneously craving cheesecake is different from discontentment.

Lord knows I have prayed about this issue. Both Ben and I have, separately and together. I have surrendered this desire over and over, only for it to ring louder. The only answer I get is: wait.

I hate that answer.

Waiting sucks.

Waiting means standing in the unknown.

Unknown. It surrounds me, holds me hostage. I can’t move without it. In the unknown I have no control, I only have a choice. Panic is a favorite choice of mine, but it lacks the comforting peace of Surrender.

Anyway, I will update here as things happen. Whether we get a rental in town, stay here in isolation, or buy a place of our own. I am just as curious as you to find out what God has in store. Trust me, we are doing everything in our power to make things happen.

Thanks for being here. It brings me an odd sort of comfort to confess my struggles publicly. Sending this out into the universe feels like a prayer demanding an answer and I KNOW God will answer. He always does.