We have to be out of our house in 15-20 days and we still have no place to go. I wish I can be mad. I wish I can sit here and cry, but I can't. I don't know why God trusts us so much and I have faith that he will work miracles in the 11th hour and give us something better. Until then, we don't have a home.
I still have to pack and all I can think about is how I long for stability. Stability is IMPORTANT to me. Stability is VITAL to me.The rough seas are suppose to make a skilled sailor. But when does the ocean become calm and just peaceful?
I shouldn't complain.
People have it worse than me. They actually live in a cardboard box as where we will be in some seedy motel that rents by the hour. At least its shelter right?
I smile though. Whats panicking gonna do but create a bigger problem?
Have faith right?
Things will fall into place right?
Good times will come sooner or later right?
I hope when I find Mr. Right, we find a cozy little home to call HOME. To raise children in and have our grand kids come over when our children have kids. To have our kids look back each time they step through our front door and say, "This is home" A place for me and my husband to have family dinners, parties, celebrations and memories. For us to fill the house with laughter and ride out the bad times. A house that has neighbors that grow old with us.
Does any of that make sense?