Admitting that I might just have an idol is hard to type.  But unfortunately I think it might be true.  As I type this my husband is upstairs finishing up yet another perfectly designed bathroom.  I was upstairs “helping” (by throwing away trash and keeping him company).  But for now, I decided that it is just too painful to watch.

You see, we may only be able to enjoy the newly created space for a few weeks at most.  The cupboards may never contain anything of ours as to fill spaces temporarily seems a bit silly.  And while I know that this ache does not really matter in the scheme of things, it is still causing tears to steadily stream down my face.  Compared to all the real troubles in the world (missing planes, mudslides, revolutions and such), having your house up for sale is so very trite.  Yet I still cry over just a place.

Although part of me knows that I could take down the sign in the yard tomorrow, the more influential part holds me back.  The part that whispers that if I am not willing to let go of what I own, it surely owns me.  The silent longing that compels to want Jesus more even though sometimes that tenet is so very hard to live out.  Why I know for certain that my brick two story has too tight of a grip on my heart for me to easily part from it.

This home has certainly been filled with wonderful memories.  Yet our almost-too-big house has certainly brought about grief of time needed to keep it all up.  Very little time to be idle and to sit and just be.  Definitely more Martha than Mary.  Not to mention  money going toward an address rather than to address those who really need support and even more so need to hear the story of God.

So the sign stays.  And I wait and wonder.  Partially what God has in store.  And also how I ended up with three waffle irons.  (Would you think less of me to know that I am keeping two of them?)  And I hope that I will find enough composure during our open house to not let out any sighs or worse yet sobs.

The letting go had to come at some point.  Just of the two of us would drown in this much expanse as our kids move on to grown up lives.  I knew the time to move would come.  Would I have been more ready after a decade of more memories?  I think by then the idol would have captured more than idle time.  Perhaps family togetherness itself would have been sacrificed by holding on.  So we continue on this path, all the while praying that God would direct us to the place of His choosing, where His name will be glorified.  And that as we go, the most important thing we will bring with us besides each other is the lesson learned.  Of not holding on too tightly to what is temporary anyway.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQaNbqIjgfis]

The video is slightly cheesy, but I love the lyrics to the song, “Hold on to Jesus” by Steven Curtis Chapman!

P.S. When will I write part 2 of homonyms?  No idea.  Although this type of word is not fun when teaching spelling, I love the combinations.  weak-week; piece-peace.  See all the possibilities? 🙂