In my young and single years, a favorite Saturday afternoon outing was going to open houses with my real estate friend, Martha. Bless her heart, she never made a penny's worth of commission from those (probably) hundreds of houses she showed me, but I think she enjoyed it as much, if not more than I did. We would hit nothing but the finest, because who really knew that my rock bottom budget didn't quite match up with the high-class homes. We were just there for a good time. We were both young and crazy and delighted in the possibilities of maybe one of us being able to someday move into a dream home.
And then we found it. We weren't even looking for this house, but passed it on the way to another neighborhood. But this neighborhood wasn't so bad. My mind started spinning. I was hooked. My must-have criteria included a white picket fence and a weeping willow tree, and here they both were, calling to me from the perfectly manicured front yard. My friend, Martha, got the info on the house and we set up an appointment to see it. And the day I walked through the front door, I knew this was my home. It was perfect. It was even affordable. I was beyond happy. Thank you, Lord!
(Mute the happy upbeat music and press PLAY on a more somber instrumental selection.)
In the preceding paragraph I spoke of thanking the Lord. And indeed I did; however, I never even involved Him on the front end. No guidance whatsoever. But I was pretty smart (insert sarcasm) and didn't need help, other than from Martha, my real estate friend. But I was surely thankful!
(Now hit FAST FORWARD and go from 1982 to 2000. Continue playing the happy upbeat music through the next two paragraphs, then turn the music off completely)
A lot happened during those eighteen years. A broken relationship of many years. A new relationship that resulted in a wonderful marriage. Two amazing kids. Moved from Little Rock to Marshall / city to country. A complete career change. Life was so much more than I ever dreamedl. God had blessed me in so many ways.
But here's the kicker. God had blessed me in ways that I could never begin to imagine. On March 23, 2000, I was at home, baking, so that when the boys got off the school bus that afternoon they would come through the front door and be hit with that intoxicating smell of brownies right out of the oven. While waiting for the oven timer to go off, I sat down with a cup of coffee and proceeded to read the online edition of the Arkansas Democrat Gazette. (Please don't judge, but I was also licking the spoon from the brownie bowl.)
And for some strange reason, I was drawn to this headline: "Visiting Confessed Killer Points Out Murder Spots in Little Rock". My world turned upside down and my blood ran cold as I read the graphic details of a serial killer named Tommy Lynn Sells who had made his home in Little Rock in 1982. (Google him.) Remember that house with the white picket fence and the weeping willow tree that I wanted with all my heart but didn't get? Had I bought that home in 1982, I would have been this serial killer's next door neighbor. (I fully understand that just being the neighbor of a serial killer is not an automatic death sentence, but I also fully understand that God totally removed me from that situation for a reason.)
Don't even dare think this was a coincidence. I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that God was protecting me, even when I hadn't even involved Him in my house hunting. The day, in 1982, that I was to sign the closing papers on my picket fence/weeping willow/dream home, I got a call from Martha, my real estate friend, literally as I was walking out the door of my office to go to the closing. I returned to my desk and listened as she told me that the sale would not be possible. I didn't ask any questions; I was young and stupid and embarrassed and heart broken. I assumed it was probably all my fault. I never heard from Martha again. I never tried to buy another home in Little Rock. Why in the world had this happened to me? And 18 years later I got my answer.
Now let me tell you, I normally do not get headlines in the paper announcing God's Plan For My Life, but sometimes He practically has to knock me in the head to get my attention. And this certainly got my attention. And now 18 years later, I still keep a printed copy of that newspaper article in my Bible as a reminder that NOTHING is coincidental. God orchestrates every single step we take. I could never thank Him enough for His protection even in this situation where I just didn't talk to Him about the purchase of this home. So now when things don't go as planned in my life, I say a prayer of thanksgiving to God for his mercy and protection one more time.
And what about you? Did you ever start out on a trip, but ended up being delayed by a few minutes, only to come across a horrible traffic accident that had just happened? Did that relationship that you thought was perfect not work out for some reason, only to result in you finding the love of your life? Were you ever diagnosed with something awful, only to be told later that the doctors had no explanation for the misdiagnosis? Did you ever miss a flight, only to find out later that your original flight had met with disaster? Never ever underestimate the power of our loving God.
“A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.”
(Proverbs 16:9)
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"Pray so big and so often that when God meets you at Heaven's gate, He says with a smile, "Kid, you kept me very busy!"
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My Lucy/Ethel spin on today's blog: My all-time favorite Lucy episode was when Ricky put her on a strict budget and she resorted to making her own dress and giving herself a home permanent. Of course the results were hilariously disastrous. And of course Ricky had to come to her rescue once again. Don't you think this must be the way that God must view our life-budgeting attempts? And aren't we so very grateful that He will come to our rescue over and over and over!