Confirmation in a Picnic Table

Since early February, my husband and I have tossed around the idea of selling our home and buying a new one. Eventually, the conversation turned more real and solid, and now we no longer toss around ideas but actual concrete plans. (well–figurative concrete, thankfully; nobody needs to toss around the real stuff.)

As we have pursued this process of getting our house ready to sell (I don’t think we can accurately state that we’re “trying” to sell our house because we’re not ready to put it on the market yet), I have wondered at times, “Are we doing the right thing? Is this wise–or just pushing something through that is not God’s best for our family?”

Then there are moments, little snippets of time when I think, “No, it’s time–we want and need space, land–a yard.” One of the visions that I hold for our new place involves an outdoor area to host people, to have a birthday party or to roast marshmallows around a fire pit or to throw a backyard picnic. To practice hospitality. We simply cannot do that in this current place. I am thankful for our home, a roof over our heads, a place to sleep at night and to feed my family meals and to read good books under the covers in bed. But we need something different–an unclaimed space to make new memories.

But every once in a while, a little imp whispers in my ear, “Let’s just stay where we are–wouldn’t it be easier?” Or even, “You aren’t grateful for what you have if you’re trying to change it.” I also have a melancholy streak in my temperament, which makes me wonder what the loss will be if and when we move–no more little pond behind our house, no more fetching bowls of ice for our kind neighbor when her ice maker is on the blink.

So, last week, God stepped in to send me a confirmation. To give me some sustenance to keep persevering through the home repairs and waiting, waiting, and more waiting (for contractors, window installers, air conditioner techs). And it was this:

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A picnic table–not a large one, a rather small one. I suppose it’d be labeled “child size.” But it easily seats our family of four, and it could serve as a great buffet table for an outdoor get-together. Not only that, it was free. I sent my older son to the dumpster in our neighborhood to take out the trash, and he returned telling me about the picnic table there. When my husband arrived home from work, he went to check on it himself and confirmed that it might be worth rescuing.

I had my doubts. But then I saw it, and we hosed it off and scrubbed it a bit. And, y’all–it’s my favorite color. An aqua picnic table, made of actual wood, in fine shape, for free, and rescued for a new life (that is my favorite kind)…

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God spoke a sermon to me through that find, that God-surprise. I know what you want, Allison, and I know what you need. I know how to encourage you–I did create you, after all. I’m leading you, so keep your eyes on Me and follow. I also have perfect timing, so trust me. And keep waiting. The contractor/air conditioner tech/window installer are on their way.

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2 thoughts on “Confirmation in a Picnic Table

  1. Thank you friend. This post spoke volumes to me. For 3 years I have waited for my son to return to the God of his heritage. I am encuraged that God still has this on his time schedule, not mine.

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    1. Oh, Vickie, that waiting and longing can be so difficult–it can make the heart sick. But God has a plan, and we can trust Him and His plan. He knows your heart today.

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