My Jonah Moment
Sorry, I haven’t been around much the last week. I haven’t fallen off the blogging map, just had some stuff come up around here that has taken all my time. I figured it was better to lie low for a while rather than just post any ol’ thing, though that is pretty much what this blog is about — any ol’ thing that pops into my head, but I digress…
It all began while I was gently encouraging in a loving, yet persistent way, (ahem) my husband to get cracking on those extra bedrooms we need in the basement for the kids. God may have blessed us with six beautiful children, but throwing one boy into a stew of all girls, certainly makes the sleeping arrangements rather tricky. When I sat down and took a hard look at this work schedule and did a preliminary budget for the renovations, I realized that a monkey wrench has been thrown into our attempt to stay put in this house. Or rather, has thrown us out the door. While we are not moving to any McMansion, we have finally had to admit that three bedrooms above grade just doesn’t cut it for us right now, and that we need to look for something with 4 bedrooms and no immediate renovations required. That means moving, which I hear only works if you sell your house. If I were sitting beside you speaking this, you would hear me insert one of the many language intensifiers I have been using lately, but since I’m the one typing right now, I’m going to sanitize my image and leave it clean.
Sitting in Church on Sunday morning, in between distracted thoughts about whether or not I could survive on 3 hours of sleep nightly for the next week, I overhead the a reading from the Book of Jonah, and I realized that this whole house thing is my Jonah Moment. Jonah was the prophet that God sent to the city of Nineveh, or at least he would have been, if Jonah had actually gone the first time. That’s how he ended up inside “the belly of the fish” — he was tossed overboard in a storm trying to sail in the opposite direction. And that’s what I’ve been doing. No, I am not going to bumper sticker my car with “Providence is my Realtor.” But I have been running away from a difficult decision, even though the answer was staring me in the face. I just didn’t like the answer. So, I kept asking the question. And rephrasing it. And doing some internet research. And asking other people’s opinions. And sleeping on it. And so on and so on….
And now, I’m just stuck with boxes and boxes. My sweet, overworked husband and I are both INTJ personality types, which is nicknamed “the Mastermind.” This means that we have set an insane deadline to get the house ready and, of course, we want to sell it ourselves to save the commission. Don’t worry — Sweetie Pie (9 tomorrow) said that she would help with showings. I’ve already read two books on selling your house, and two on staging your house (just one more to get through!) Buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
Thanks for sticking with me as things get a little intermittent. I promise I’ll be back to normal soon. Or may a whale swallow me whole.