It is done. Well, almost done. We still have to secure a mortgage and do an inspection, but we bought a condo in uptown Montreal this weekend. We saw it on Saturday, put in an offer that afternoon, negotiated through Sunday about price and a few details, and while I was sitting on the toilet at church on Sunday night, peeing, I received a text message that the place was ours. Don't you love God's way with timing? I finished my business and ran out to inform Dean. He was relieved, and so was I, just having come from the bathroom, but after that, the sensation that kept washing over me in waves that evening was of being slightly overwhelmed by the goodness of God. Sometimes I have so little faith. Sometimes I doubt that God will do what he says, even though he always comes through and he tells me in so many ways all the time in every situation that he can be counted on to get us through it. But I have been known to mix superstition in with my lumpy faith, so I hesitate to jump into belief when things get wacky, afraid that I am just being weird and hearing voices of my own making.
The voice told me not to worry, that everything would be settled for our new home before Dean leaves for a conference on May 28. Last week, in a slump of discouragement, when I started to count up all the houses we had seen without a single one being right (the number at that point was around 25 - yes, the obsessive compulsive counting behaviour sometimes surfaces during stressful times), the voice said just wait till you get to 35. The voice asked, what would you like, so I listed my secret desires: a fireplace (wood preferred over gas), a mezzanine (I have always loved mezzanines), proximity to a metro (subway), and all the things that would make Dean happy: a second bathroom, a garage, and a relatively short, traffic-free drive to work. Oh, and I wanted to move way before July 1 if possible, because that is the official moving day in Quebec and as you approach it, moving rates climb like the initial incline on the Goliath roller coaster at La Ronde and the availability of movers plummets like the terrorising free fall that immediately follows.
We ended up seeing 36 homes in our search and we bought number 32. We will sort out the final conditions this week and the sold sign should go up by Monday, May 26. It is a five minute bus ride away from the metro, and on a sunny summer day, walking it would be a pleasure. The ride to Dean's work is probably going to be shorter than the one he has now. There is a mezzanine WITH a wood fireplace, a private garage, a half bath in the master bedroom, and we can move in three weeks. I am struck dumb by this generosity.
Even before I experience the full brunt of the goodness of God, it is already present. Even before I feel the grace that slops down on me like an unexpected bucket soaking from my best friend on a hot and sticky day, it is there - not just on its way, but right beside me, mine, active now, all the time. The grace does not delay its gracious gifts nor cringe and take a step back even though I was a bad person that afternoon. It boldly steps forward on days like these, and tells me in a plain and clear voice that I cannot mistake for anything but the truth: goodness in my life never depends on me. It is the goodness OF GOD, remember that.
This is a lady bug sunning herself on a dandelion in my neighbour's yard.
The voice told me not to worry, that everything would be settled for our new home before Dean leaves for a conference on May 28. Last week, in a slump of discouragement, when I started to count up all the houses we had seen without a single one being right (the number at that point was around 25 - yes, the obsessive compulsive counting behaviour sometimes surfaces during stressful times), the voice said just wait till you get to 35. The voice asked, what would you like, so I listed my secret desires: a fireplace (wood preferred over gas), a mezzanine (I have always loved mezzanines), proximity to a metro (subway), and all the things that would make Dean happy: a second bathroom, a garage, and a relatively short, traffic-free drive to work. Oh, and I wanted to move way before July 1 if possible, because that is the official moving day in Quebec and as you approach it, moving rates climb like the initial incline on the Goliath roller coaster at La Ronde and the availability of movers plummets like the terrorising free fall that immediately follows.
We ended up seeing 36 homes in our search and we bought number 32. We will sort out the final conditions this week and the sold sign should go up by Monday, May 26. It is a five minute bus ride away from the metro, and on a sunny summer day, walking it would be a pleasure. The ride to Dean's work is probably going to be shorter than the one he has now. There is a mezzanine WITH a wood fireplace, a private garage, a half bath in the master bedroom, and we can move in three weeks. I am struck dumb by this generosity.
Even before I experience the full brunt of the goodness of God, it is already present. Even before I feel the grace that slops down on me like an unexpected bucket soaking from my best friend on a hot and sticky day, it is there - not just on its way, but right beside me, mine, active now, all the time. The grace does not delay its gracious gifts nor cringe and take a step back even though I was a bad person that afternoon. It boldly steps forward on days like these, and tells me in a plain and clear voice that I cannot mistake for anything but the truth: goodness in my life never depends on me. It is the goodness OF GOD, remember that.
This is a lady bug sunning herself on a dandelion in my neighbour's yard.
Comments
and I love that last para. about grace...if only I could extend it to others like that as well.