Provision

"The Lord is my portion,
therefore I will put my hope in him."
Lamentations 3:24

When we signed our lease 18 months ago, we knew it was temporary. We had ideas about what would come next, but nothing solid, nothing in place. Our ties to Los Angeles have loosened with the passing years and so when our pastor and his family left to plant a church in Nashville, it seemed like a logical conclusion. Our lease would end and so would our time in Los Angeles. We'd head east to join with Risen Church.

Except those doors didn't open. 

It's painful to feel a call and yet be told to wait. That pattern repeats through my life. The thrill of an opportunity, the agony of hope delayed. And then, the wide-eyed wonder of every detail falling into place at the perfect moment.

Not a moment too soon. Not a moment too late.

Doors didn't open in Nashville like we expected, but still we prepared. We spent the summer downsizing - Offer Up, garage sales, donations. Anything to have less, to feel lighter. We met neighbors we'd only glimpsed before, learning about their lives and loves and needs. The man directly across the street from us held a garage sale on the same morning we did. We wandered back and forth between our houses, eventually learning some of his story. 

Enrique and his wife had lived in this house for nearly 25 years, but now had to move. She has dementia and needs more care than he can give. The house had flowers painted in the windows and old Christmas lights still hanging from the eaves. It had obviously been loved. He told us about calling the fire department when his wife fell and he couldn't help her up in the early hours of the day.  He told us about unfinished projects that he'd never complete.

And for over a year, we'd lived across the street and never known. My heart broken for my neighbor, for this man put in our path. For however long we stayed in LA, I wanted to do better. I wanted to love my neighbors more.

I browsed Zillow in Nashville and in our own little community. I used up spices and toiletries in preparation to move. I plotted in my head what was worth keeping and what could go. I battled waves of fear and desperation.

In late June, the gardener who kept our lawn knocked on the door. Enrique, his friend across the street, had to move but wanted to rent out his home. The gardener knew we would be moving in August. Maybe it would be a good fit for us? It would be an easy move.

In that moment, God whispered into my heart, "Beloved, do you believe anything is impossible for me?" Truthfully? I do. 

More than any other aspect of my faith, I struggle to believe that God, the creator of the universe, cares about the minutia of my life. He will be glorified whether I live in a mansion or a car. If I'm hungry, may I honor him. If I feast, may I honor him. But God is not a genie. My relationship with Christ is not designed to make me happy, but holy. And so, I struggle to believe he will do the impossible on my behalf.

For nothing is impossible with God

Luke 1:37

On the day Enrique moved out, we wandered through his home. It needed work. It needed more than work. It need a major overhaul. We talked about doing some work in exchange for lower rent. But in the end, we said no and let it go. It wasn't right.

July slipped away. We saw other houses. This one too small, this one too expensive, nothing just right. Everything asking for 12 month leases starting on August 1. 

Still Nashville beckoned.

Jesus relied:

"What is impossible with man, is possible with God."

Luke 18:27

Matthew 19:26

Mark 10:27

We left for a visit with family. Less than a month before the end of our lease and still no where to go. Still no direction. The few houses in our neighborhood that came on the market were hundreds more than we could afford. Time and options were running out. So we skipped town for nearly two weeks.

One house popped up. The right size. Almost the right price. We talked with the owner. It needed work. Maybe we could do some work? She'd get back to us.

Then nothing. We came back to LA, expecting to see this house, but we heard nothing. I contacted the listing agent. We heard nothing. We passed by to see peeling paint and dead grass and Christmas decorations coated in dust. But it would be something. Something had to be better than nothing.

I lost sleep. More nights than I care to remember. I raged at God. I found no solutions. Nothing new came on the market. I contacted every house in the neighborhood, even the $4,200/mo 4 bedroom with Carrara marble, in hopes of finding something. But we heard nothing.

Is anything too difficult for the Lord?

Genesis 18:14

And then, with 11 days left on our lease, we heard from the owner of the one house! We could see it in the morning! This was it! This was what we'd been waiting for!

Except it was terrible. Flooring coming up between the kitchen and the dinning area. Rotting wood around the laundry. Heavy wood paneling in the family room. The kids hated it. But it was the right size and the right price. It would just require committing to another full year in Los Angeles.

We agonized. I started contacting properties outside of our neighborhood. I looked at Airbnbs. I reached out to everyone and everything that would possibly allow us to do something short-term, just to buy us time to figure things out. We could ask our tenant to move out of the condo and move back to Playa Vista. A friend offered to let us stay in her RV.

I know that you can do all things;

no plan of yours can be thwarted.

Job 42:2

Despite all of my efforts, door after door closed. School would start soon and I had no idea where we would do homework. Where we would eat meals. How we would bathe. I packed box after box, not knowing when or where I'd opened them again. My mommy-heart ached every time I told the kids that I didn't know where we were going.

There's a song that plays on Christian radio. I don't like it. I generally don't like Christian radio, but it's better than the questions raised by listening to KROQ with kids. This song I don't like kept running through my head: Don't you give up on the miracle. 

With eight days until the end of our lease, we needed a miracle. Our only viable option was a 12-month lease on a house we hated.

Behold, I am the Lord,

the God of all flesh;

is anything too difficult for me?

Jeremiah 32:27

And then came the miracle.

All summer, we'd watched work happening on Enrique's house. There was a "for rent" sign out front, but we knew it would be too expensive. It's a big house on a big lot. We were priced out of even the most modest houses in this neighborhood. And we knew what they hoped to rent it for.

Driven by curiosity, Joe contacted the listing agent. And it was in our budget. It was lower than our current rent. I sent a flurry of texts asking people to pray with us. Because we still didn't want a 12-month lease. Whether we stay in LA or not, a 12-month lease has us moving when the kids are starting school. We needed something flexible. In faith, Joe asked for a 4-month lease and month-to-month indefinitely after.

And they accepted - for slightly higher rent. It's still worth it to us for the flexibility.

A 4-month lease on a right size, right location, right price house! Except it wouldn't be ready on September 1 and our current landlord had contractors scheduled to begin renovations. But we could stay in a hotel or crash with friends. It would be the second week of school and we'd have to store our stuff, but we could make it work.

Except our landlord let us stay an extra week! 

Down to the wire, September 7, the day before we would move, and we finally got a lease to sign - and it had the lower rent amount listed! An amount that with the annual increase for our tenant, will cover the increased cost of our mortgage on the condo. The exact amount we needed.

So many tiny details have fallen into place - a refrigerator for $100 right down the street. A great washer & dryer for ridiculously cheap. An adorable patio set that somehow coordinates with the weird sea-foam green of our garage. Friends and neighbors who helped dolly furniture and carry boxes across the street. Even a barbecue/block party around the corner from us on moving day so that we could eat after a long, brutal day.

And so here we are, a week into our stay in Enrique's house. It's not perfect. We had no gas for the first four days (so no hot water or stove). The second bathroom is under construction. We've had plumbing issues. It's a odd layout with random shiplap everywhere. The yard is a mess. 

It's not perfect, but it's provision. So much work has gone into this house and work continues. When we leave, whether in December or ten years from now, it'll be better than when we started. The manager tells me Enrique is thrilled that we're here.

We have a place that is the right size, in the right neighborhood, at the right price, for the right amount of time, and it's easing the burden of our neighbor. This is a gift we don't deserve. This is grace in action. 

We don't know how long we'll stay. We don't know what is ahead for our family. But for now, we have a place to call home and a mission to carry out. This weekend, we hung curtains and ordered random bits and pieces from Home Depot. Home making - the craft of carving a home from a house - is underway.

And in the meantime, we celebrate with Risen Church in Nashville because as of last night, they will be merging with GraceLand Church in Franklin. That is another beautiful story, covered with the fingerprints of a good God. And while I joyfully watch it unfold, I'm stunned to recognize God's provision in preventing us from buying a house in Green Hills while our hearts have always been drawn toward Franklin. Again, I don't know what's ahead. But I'm excited.