we sold the house!/...

One month ago we finally sold our home on Country Glen, the house we moved out of two years ago so that I could stay home with our daughter and so we could get our financial world more aligned with God's idea of good working order. Yes, the burden is finally off our shoulders, and we are just now beginning to feel the lightness of that certainty. 

A month ago, however, when we left the title company's office after signing our home away along with a hefty sum of money, we felt pretty dejected. The receptionist congratulated us, probably assuming that we were "moving up." I can tell you that it was the most ironic congratulations I'd ever heard. I'm pretty sure I laughed out loud and asked Chaz if he had heard what she said. Yes, he had. 

Those first couple weeks after selling were difficult for us. We had wrongly assumed that we would feel great joy and victory after getting rid of our "largest debt," but all we felt was an anticlimax. We didn't question our decision, but we did feel the loss of that money, our pride of home ownership, and the impending doom of starting over. It was hard not to let my mind wander down the road of "when will we own a home again?". 

But one month out we are starting to feel the release and freedom from not having the financial burden of our house hanging over our heads. The payoff of our smallest debt is within range, and we are living with more ease knowing that our emergency fund is funded and if we have to make big repairs to the car or have to fly home for some reason, we can do it with cash. Now, Chaz is still working his second job at South Shore Grille, but we have gotten into a good routine working around it and we also know that it is temporary. And we are VERY thankful for it! 

Also, it was pretty amazing to see God's orchestration of events right before we sold the house. Through our own perseverance of saving the second job money and some small miracles that came through during the last couple months, we were able to bring all our cash to closing without going into any further debt. It still hurt to write those checks and see our savings account go back down to zero, but it was good to know that we didn't have to dig ourselves into a bigger hole to do it. 

This whole experience has taken us through a vortex of emotions, making us confront adulthood and responsibility. Overall, I'd say that God has mostly been at work in our marriage these past two years. He has brought us from a somewhat fragile marriage marked by hiding from each other and poor communication to a strong marriage marked by mutual trust and honesty. Making this change in our life has been worth it just for that alone. I love and trust my husband far more now than I did two years ago, and I think he'd say the same for me. And for the first time in a while, we are truly looking forward to our future. 

Poppy

     So, I haven't posted in months. It's really only because I've found little time to sit down and write. But this week something happened that prompted me to get out pen and paper again: my beloved grandfather went home to be with the Lord. I wrote this in the two days following his death and read it this morning during his funeral service. Please read on and get to know a great man.

As all of you know, my grandfather, Austin “Horsefly” Herring, was a great man. So many of you expressed your feelings about him last night, speaking of his humor, wit, friendliness, sweetness, and love of the Lord.  I knew him to embody all of those qualities as well. But I’d like to tell you about the grandfather I love, my Poppy.

For most of our lives my brother and I considered Poppy to be more than a grandfather—we considered him to be our dad.  I’d almost say that he “stepped in” to act as our father, but that would imply that he made a decision to do so. I believe it was just a natural act for him. Our Poppy was the one to take us on so many camping trips to Sardis Lake in the trailer and the old “Green Hornet” as he called that old Ford. He taught me how to pick the very best tomatoes out of his garden. He taught us how to take care of a home and yard and showed my brother what hard work truly looked like. He helped to teach us both how to drive—and I’ll never forget the time I tried to turn left on a green yield light. He almost put both feet through the floorboards and scared the life out of me. He guided me through the death of my mother, as he had been through the very same experience. He was there to give my then boyfriend the infamous “Herring stare” for several months every time he came to visit—and if you don’t know what that is, then count yourself lucky. He was the one my husband went to to ask for my hand in marriage. And he was the one I chose to give me away on my wedding day.  And then he was the one whose heart I broke when I moved all the way to Texas. But we seemed to only grow closer over the years.

We had a sweet relationship—one that a father should have with his daughter. And through that love, he taught me what it was to be loved like a Princess and how I should expect a man to love me.  In one of our last conversations , Poppy began talking about my grandmother, whom we called Meme. He talked for a while and then said that those last few years were the best of their marriage. I wasn’t necessarily surprised by this because I saw that love in his every action in those years. His gentle care for Meme while she was still living at home has been forever imprinted on my heart. His dedication and faithfulness to get to the nursing home every day he could just to sit with her has become my definition of true love. But I still asked him why—why were those last years the best? He couldn’t really answer me because he was overwhelmed with emotion. He only said that they had a sweet love. I know that this kind of enduring, faithful love is something I will not truly understand until I taste it for myself. But because of the example of love and marriage he provided for me, I believe I will be able to someday know the fullness of that brand of love.

And today that is one of the reasons that I just cannot go very long grieving the loss of my Poppy.  I know that this world was not his true home, and now he is again with his beloved wife of now more than 65 years. You see, his life has not ended; it has only now truly begun. He is now in a place that has been prepared for him by his most precious love of all, Jesus Christ, whom he walked with since the age of 34. My grandfather was able to be more than a grandfather to me because his example of how to live a full and loving life came from the Living God of the Bible.  And my greatest debt of gratitude to him was that he passed on this legacy of faith as one who discipled me.

Now, I don’t want you to think that I won’t or am not grieving the loss of my Poppy, for I surely am and will continue to do so. And what I’ll miss most are those very sweet discussions we would have about the Lord because I so loved to hear of his love for the Lord. But, again, I can’t get over this picture in my mind—one of my Poppy standing in the presence of his precious Savior. So, I guess the best way to honor my Poppy would be to ask you what he considered to be the most important question of all: Do you know Jesus? In that question, you are required to think of a relationship, because truly walking with Jesus, true Christianity is beyond upright moral values or religious attitudes. It is, in its essence, a relationship.  So, as you honor the memory of my grandfather today, please ask yourself that question and remember how he lived out his faith.

                                                                                                                                                                         

memorial stones

In Joshua 3 God performs yet another miracle for the nation of Israel: He takes them into the promised land (after a grueling forty years in the desert) via the Jordan River. And since God is God, he didn't use a ferryboat to get them all across; he simply parted the waters so they could walk across on dry land. 

In the next chapter God commands them through Joshua to build a memorial out of stones so that "When your children ask their fathers in times to come, 'What do those stones mean?' then you shall let your children know, 'Israel passed over this Jordan on dry ground'" (v. 21-22). It got me thinking: when was the last time I built a memorial to the Lord? 

What do we use nowadays to commemorate the great things the Lord has done for us? I know many people who use their talents and gifts to worship the Lord or bring attention to him. But what about telling our stories? I think that God's intention in having the Israelites build that memorial was exactly what he said it was for: "your children." 

Picture this: a group of kids are out fishing one day to bring home dinner for the family. They go a bit further downstream than they normally do and pass by this huge pile of stones. They inspect it, poking and prodding each stone to see if it will topple over. The brave one climbs on top to show the others how easy it is and that there's nothing to be afraid of. A couple more clamber up, and they are amazed at their new-found play land. They day is quickly coming to an end, so they return home, fish in tow, telling Mom about this cool pile of stones (leaving out the part about climbing atop it) and asking Dad what the pile of stones was all about. Then the fathers and mothers and grandfathers and grandmothers know it is time. They take their children back out to the river and build a bonfire by the stones. So they sit with their children around them and tell the story of how God delivered them. (Note: this brings both worship and attention to the Lord while also honoring his goodness and mercy)

You see, the Lord does not want us to forget. He knew that the Israelites had already forgotten his mighty works and great mercy. He knows that we will do the same. 

No, maybe the problem is not that we literally forget what the Lord did for us back in the day. Maybe the problem is that we forget what it felt like after the deliverance. Have you forgotten the great relief, love, gratitude, joy, and humility you experienced when God delivered you from that impossible situation? Or when he saved your marriage? Or when he gave you that long sought-after gift? Or have you even forgotten what it felt like when Jesus saved you?

And it's no wonder that we forget those feelings. We get so bogged down with the day-to-day that we lose the passion. I do this all too often. Feelings are not intended to be permanent. This is why our relationships don't work well when we base them off of the emotion of the moment (can I get an Amen from a wife out there!). 

That's the reason for the memorial stones. We look upon the big pile of stones and recall the awe we felt when God did that amazing miracle. And in that moment we are able to tell our story with all the magnificence we felt as it first happened. The best part is that the story wasn't just about how God had parted the Jordan; it was also the stories carried over from their parents and grandparents of all that God had done for them in the desert as well as the hardships they'd endured. And I'm sure their stories would spill over into the recent past as they recounted how God had continued to show his greatness in their lives. Our God is an every day miracle worker. 

So maybe a pile of stones in your front yard isn't cool with your HOA. That's okay. We all have talents and creativity in us. Think of the most recent thing the Lord has done for you and get creative. My thing is writing (and you can see some of my memorial stones in the previous post). Remember, these stories are for our children and each other. Build your memorial to honor God's holy name and worship him. "Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!" (Psalm 150:6)