Its not all sunshine

I’ve started this about a billion different ways in my head. I’ve even written a draft and scratched most of it. I don't like to talk about how hard my life is, especially as ACU is running a blog series on the Joplin tornados and I see how much pain there is, and will continue to be, in that region. And I think about the regions of Japan that may continue to be in upheaval for years. Then I think about some of our dear friends who are struggling with their own problems to grow their families. My struggles seem much lighter. Much more trivial. Much less painful.

But, I’ve been crying. Almost daily. Not in a pretty way. In a way that would scare away any normal human companion. Thank God Adam is stronger than I am.

Let me tell you the story.

I hate (and I don’t use that word lightly) feeling out of control, out of routine, out of sorts. I don’t handle it well. I forget to be polite to others. I cannot focus on anything except that my world is out of sorts. That is exactly where I am right now. I knew there would be an adjustment period with this whole moving to a foreign country thing, but I never imagined that I would feel so anxious about it.

We are having a major struggle finding a home. Very early on in our marriage, Adam and I were overly blessed by our house in Texas. It was bigger than we ever imagined we could afford, it was in a location that we loved, and it had a yard that was more that we could even dream about. While we were going through the negotiation process, we prayed one night that we wanted a home to bless others with. That night we heard, in one of those very clear, can only be God moments, that any house we’re given we will use to bless others with.

Isn’t that amazing.

The next morning we found out our offer was accepted. I knew at that moment that we would always have a place to live that we could share with family, friends, and those who needed it.

So, fast forward almost 6 years. Apparently the rental market in Bristol is one of the “hottest” rental markets in the UK. So much so that landlords are having their choice of 8-10 applicants per property rather than tenants viewing multiple properties. Throw in the unknown factor of renting to an American and two dogs and you have yourself a nearly impossible housing conundrum.

We have a letting agent through my relocation package with PwC. I know they are as frustrated with the situation as I am. I know they want the best for us. I know this stuff. My heart is trying to catch up to my brain.

We have looked at 7 properties now. Seven. That is how many we can find out of the approximately 420 properties meeting the 2-4 bedroom, £800-£1,200 per month in the Bristol area criteria that will rent to foreigners with pets. One of the seven was actually let before we saw it, so realistically we’re down to six out of 419. None are “the house”. Hence the start of the tears. None of them are close to meeting all our ideal criteria. Hence the start of the sobbing. None of them I can imagine us spending a year or two living in; a Christmas, a set of birthdays, an anniversary, and a host of new experiences. Hence the wailing. And none will offer a short term (3-6 months) lease. Hence the blubbering.

Then this morning, I read Lamentations. If there is a book in the Bible that understands pain, that understands crying, that understands ache, this is the one. As I read, trying to understand how painful it is to lose an entire city, to have no hope, I came to chapter 3:

21-32
(NIV)

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I
have hope:

Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his
compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”

The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks
him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD. It is good for a
man to bear the yoke while he is young.

Let him sit alone in silence,
for the LORD has laid it on him. Let him bury his face in the dust—there may yet
be hope. Let him offer his cheek to one who would strike him, and let him be
filled with disgrace.

For no one is cast off by the Lord forever. Though
he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing
love.

Woah! As bad as I may think things are now, it is owing to the mercy of God that they are not worse. We have a temporary apartment (which the gracious partners in my office have agreed to pay for an additional two weeks than stated in my relocation contract), I have terrific friends and family back home that I can email at 2 in the afternoon and they have arranged for a local to call me with advice by 7:30 (Thanks again, Matt!!), and we have support network to keep us going.

God is compassionate. Afflictions do and will work for good. If tribulation begets patience, that patience will bring experience, and that experience will create hope. Happy shall we be, if we learn to receive affliction as laid upon us by the hand of God. Happy? Maybe, content. I’m still working on that one.

So, I think I should summarize. You may have either fallen asleep or think that we’re having a miserable time here (which we’re NOT!!! Read Adam’s posts for the warmer side – he’s the glass half full guy). We haven’t found a house yet. We’re working on it. It’s a much bigger hurdle than we expected. We have each other (and I haven’t scared Adam off yet). We have some possibilities. We will not be homeless. There is more cheerful news to come.

Final note... I just asked Adam to proof read my post before I made it ‘live’. I asked him if it was too strong. His response? (This is why I love him so) “It’s a bit heavy, but that is where your heart is right now. This blog is supposed to share what we’re doing with our loved ones. It’s not meant to only show the fun parts. Nobody believes that you only have great times when embarking on a trip like this. Someday we’ll need to remember this struggle.” He’s right...he usually is, just don’t tell him I said that.