Tuesday, May 18, 2010

The Cottage

During our final month at Grey Bruce Art World, we had to find a temporary place to live.  The power was being shut off and the creditors were preparing to take our house. See Wrong Direction
A few weeks earlier, the pastor of the church in Chatham had asked us to help them find a Christian campground where the men and boys of his church could go for a weekend retreat.  We found one for him up on the peninsula, but before they even had a chance to use it we had moved into a small cottage on that campground.

It was a blessing from God.  The cottage had room for two beds and a sitting area with a partial divider between.  The whole thing was smaller than our living room in the big house, and we had to walk quite a distance to get to the washrooms, but to my husband, daughter, and I this was home. 

We were happier there than we had been in a long time.  In the mornings, at sunrise, I would take a canoe out onto the still lake and would sit there in the midst of all that beauty and worship the Creator. In the evenings we would listen to preaching or singing tapes, or read the Bible, or just talk. 

Part of the time, during the day I would work at sorting through our things.  A lot of our stuff had to be left behind, but I didn't mind.  Our fancy house certainly had not brought us happiness.  That was the house where I first had to face my failure as a Mother. See Broken Mom Part 1 and Broken Mom Part 2 .

Our oldest daughter, Samantha, see Happiness Is and I'm at a Loss for Words had come back to the Lord the month before, but I was still hurting from the sting of knowing that our son was out in the world.  That was the main cry of my heart at that time.

I was happy to leave this big house behind but I knew that I had to make sure I didn't forget any important papers.  I was sorting through an old file box when I came across a note I had long forgotten. It was from the early years of our marriage. 

I have never had an easy time talking about things that matter to me without getting teary eyed, and when we first got married Bruce was not good at handling my tears, so when I needed to talk to him and couldn't, I would write a note for him to read when he got up in the morning.  This was one of those notes.

"You asked me what my goals in life were," I had written.  "I have only one goal, and that is that all our family follow the Lord with all their hearts, and it doesn't matter whether I live in a mansion or a one room cottage."

By the time I finished reading the note I was crying harder than I had when I wrote it.  The Lord knew way back then that we would have to leave the grand house we had built for ourselves. He knew that we would some day be living in a one room cottage,  and He knew where to hide the note and when to let me find it so I would be reminded of what I had written.

 It was like God was giving me a special promise for my family that day, a promise that, now that we were happy to be living in a one room cottage, willing to do whatever the Lord had in mind for us, He was promising to fulfill my desire to see my family serving the Lord.

I have claimed that promise ever since.

To read the previous post  go to The Decision

In the next post I write about Finding a House.  It was amazing how the Lord worked.

To start at the beginning of this series go to Broken Mom 

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