The past week has been a roller-coaster ride. After a long weekend in Tulsa, searching for properties that were appropriate for my sensitivities, we finally decided to put in an offer on a parcel of land I'd had my eye on for over a year.
And wouldn't you know it, the very weekend we decided we finally wanted to take the plunge, several other interested buyers came out of the woodwork and challenged our bid. We lost.
Yes, we're disappointed, because I had essentially stopped looking at properties for the past year because I was so sure God had appointed this parcel to be ours, in His time. And now that the time has come to finally move, the promised land is no longer in sight. It seems a hazy vision on the distant horizon, a faraway land of half-remembered dreams, people, and places.
The still, small voice inside is quiet for now, except for the ongoing refrain to "be still and know that I am God."
There is uncertainty, to be sure, but there is little anxiety. Sure, it's frustrating, but there is always hope for the future. I dream of a house on the rolling hills of Tuscany, where the golden fields shine like liquid honey in the warm afternoon light, and the soft Tuscan breeze, pungent with a hint of herbs and juniper, dances across my face like the caress of a lover.
We will find our sanctuary, somewhere in the middle of an oil and gas boom town. It's ironic, I know. But the trees still whisper good things, peaceful things out there. Havens of rest still exist up there, even so close to a metropolitan area. I have to believe it's possible. Or that God will make it possible soon.
2013 is the year of miracles. I can't wait to see what this one's going to look like.