Why You Have to Stop Waiting for the Future and Begin Living Now
I‘ve wasted so many years being restless.
We’ve lived in fourteen different houses in our nineteen years of marriage and I did it all wrong.
I was always waiting. Waiting for that next house where I just knew we could finally settle down and I could create the kind of home where I imagined our family living.
I assumed once we were truly settled down, then I could invite people over and we’d connect, then I could create a meaningful, beautiful home.
Then I would start, life would start. I put all my hopes in The Next House.
We’ve lived in ten different rental homes. We’ve owned four different homes, all in different cities, three in different states.
Still, I was perpetually restless, waiting for perfect circumstances and I didn’t even realize the years were passing by.
Life was passing by.
I had no choice.
Our boys were getting older and if I wasn’t careful, their entire childhood would be one where Mom was waiting for our forever home, hanging nothing on the walls because this house is just temporary and we need to wait for something better.
They would only know me as mom who was always living for the future because right now was never enough.
So I gave up.
And in giving up, I finally gave in and made a home right where we were in the middle of imperfect circumstances, in a rental house where I had no idea if we’d ever move.
It was the best thing that could have happened.
I realized that my restlessness really was a trust issue with God.
The fact that I put off inviting people over was a trust issue with my friends.
I chose to start acting like what I believed was true: that God had provided enough for me, and that it was possible to enjoy it right now. I began to settle, right where I was, even in the midst of imperfection.
I invited friends over purposely knowing what I was really telling them was that they can be trusted with the imperfections of my life.
I don’t have to go to great lengths to hide the truth. My friends could be trusted not to judge a thirty-five year old weirdo who was still paying off debt and renting a house with carpet and paint she’d never choose.
For so many years I put all this pressure on my house and circumstances when really, at any time, I could have decided to embrace what I had been given and find rest in the midst of the imperfect. Even if it was in a two bedroom condo where one of our boys slept on a sofa.
At it’s core, to rest is to give thanks for the present and to trust that, as the future becomes the present, God will supply what we need.” [Sally Breedlove, Choosing Rest.]
Once I chose to accept what had been provided for me and rest in the undone – I finally found home.