We are moving to California in about nine weeks--at least, I am. Sam will probably move down there in May to get an early start on his new job. There is so much to be done beforehand: packing up the house, visiting places we want to see before we leave the Pacific Northwest, spending time with friends, going through stuff. Oh, and last but not least, finding a house to move to. We don't know where we're going yet--that Abrahamic feel is a bit uncomfortable!
I've been doing lots of "coulda, shoulda, woulda" lately. If only someone had told me in my 20s that I should buy a home, I would have. If only someone had helped me get through school, I could have a more cash flow available to buy a house. If I'd just not had to use my retirement to pay for my degree! If only I'd married that guy with loads of money... and on and on. But I didn't know to invest, had no help, and did the best I could think of without having any business sense or intelligent advice. None of our circumstances have surprised God. I believe that He has 1000 ways to provide for us of which we know nothing (go here for more), in spite of whatever poor judgment calls were made when I didn't know better. It remains for me to be prudent while making up for previous errors in judgment.
We believe that God would like us at this particular place in California for a number of reasons, one of which is that they invited me. I didn't seek out their institution. In fact, I never wanted to live down there again But here we are, getting ready to go. Knowing that God wants us someplace makes me think that He will go before us and help us find an acceptable home for an affordable price. A miracle? In California, yes.
So I find myself praying in my sleep--something I haven't done before. I remember reading in the Psalms about how David would pray in his bed at night and had a mental image of David lying in bed before he went to sleep, talking to God. But here I wake up in the morning and realize that I was talking with God on several occasions during the night while I was asleep. I have distinct memories or rolling over in the middle of a conversation with God about what we need for our move. And I woke up this morning mid-sentence as I discussed a home with Him. I never knew this was possible.
It is somewhat like the experience I once had after an excruciating loss. I woke up every morning with a different hymn in my mind--one that I hadn't sung for some time. Either God gave me those songs in the night, or my subconscious was reaching out to Him in some way. Either idea is lovely, because I wake up with God first and foremost in my thoughts. It is not all bad to be waiting on God.
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