"My times are in your hands..." ... Psalm 31:15

And gee, am I ever glad for that verse. Especially lately with all this our-future-is-totally-up-in-air stuff. I mean, yesterday we were talking to someone at our kitchen table, sharing all our 'kinda-sorta options' (which, most days, don't feel like options, but a list of choices of which only one is right, but we have no idea which one).

And then Tom says casually, "Who knows? Maybe we'll just stay here for the rest of our lives."

What?! Suddenly I was, like, "Who is this man beside me? Isn't he the same guy who complains (and complains)every single winter about snow and has brought up moving away for, oh, the last ten years, way before I was ever ready to consider it?"

(Don't you hate it when your spouse throws curve balls like that, especially while you're talking with someone else so that you're unable to go ballistic until later after they're gone?) :)

Well, my times are in God's hands, thank-goodness, as long as I want what He wants and let go of what I think I want. It's an immature Christian who believes God's plans aren't as fun and fulfilling as her own (I remind myself, like, everyday). God's ways are a million times better than my own.

Step by sloooow step He's leading us. And trust me, I've wanted to leap, leap, leap out of here for over a year now. But God's not into that leap, leap, leaping thing. Nah, He's into leading us one step at a time.

We got the house ready to sell.
We sold it.
We hired someone to replace our fuse box--the one thing which didn't pass inspection.
We're packing up.
We're searching for something to rent (most likely) so that we'll be free to go when finally--finally--God shows us the next step to take.

Slow, slow steps...

And now I'll try not to spend this winter wishing I was someplace else (oh man, I want that little acre somewhere!), nor wishing God was a leap-before-looking sort of guy.