Living in the “Not yet, but almost.”

In 12 days we’re moving to the country part time for a few weeks.

In 12 days we’ll be ‘housesitting’ a house that doesn’t actually need to be housesat.

In 12 days we’ll be temporarily trading in full time apartment living for part time dwelling in a spacious place. The only neighbours underneath us, far beneath the house foundation, will be dirt and its insect inhabitants. You might hear me freely yelling to my boys, “Go ahead! Drop whatever you want to while running on the floor at 6 am, just because you can!”

You’ll definitely hear me sighing with relief, because to say “it’s been stressful” keeping 4 very active young boys quiet and reserved inside an apartment for all these years, is an understatement.

“Children should play outside and NOT inside” was rule number 4 listed on the apartment building notice that had just been slipped underneath our door. Yikes. We live in a building that is very, “Stay off the grass, don’t splash in the pool, and don’t run or jump ever.” Makes sense. Those are legitimate requests for all grownups living in close proximity together. But kids? Not so much…

“It’s not our fault Mom, it’s who we are…” I hear my boys say.

I know. IT IS who you are. You were meant to be found climbing in a tree with two peanut butter sandwiches in one hand and a slingshot in the other, not quietly tiptoeing  around an apartment in slippered feet.

We’ve outgrown our current home, our apartment, by A LOT. It’s time for us to move out and move on, but sometimes finding ‘the next thing’ isn’t as quick as we’d like it to be. 

That awkward in between two things transition time. Yes… That space where all I can do is faithfully remind them (and myself) that… We’re not there yet, but it’s coming.

It feels like those are the words God says to me…

I’m getting you to where you need to be. 

It’s coming.

I’ll get you into that tree with your sandwiches… Do you trust me? You should.

I just read this morning (of course I did…) in a book called Gracelaced, (how appropriately titled) by Ruth Chou Simons,

“When one chapter closes and another is still not ours, the beauty we get to experience is seeing how the Father provides in the now and not yet.” 

It turns out this apartment living chapter isn’t quite finished yet, but in the midst of this transition between the now and the not yet, God is continuously providing. He’s providing temporary houses that offer immense relief, indoor soccer classes minutes away, preschool across the street, kind neighbours beside us, and a double parking space for our big minivan in the parkade below. Without a doubt He has been, and continues to be, faithfully providing in the NOW.

So I’m not gonna keep getting worked up about it… Instead I’m gonna trust him. I might even change my gonna to going to.

“I could take them swimming today…” I said to my husband while looking at the monsoon outside our kitchen window. Whole body exercise, the greatest gift to mamas of energetic littles.

But… today the sign on the pool door read, “Closed until further notice.”

“Why mom?” They asked looking confused and dejected as I quickly scanned the paragraphs in front of me.

“Ew… the whirlpool isn’t up to code… gross. Nice that we’ve been soaking ourselves in it huh?!” I said with a wink and a little bit of a shudder.

But of course, later this afternoon the chapter in my Gracelaced book went on to say…

“You may feel as though you are juggling more than you can handle. Your current circumstances and the demands on your energy or time are beyond you… (Preach it sister…) but maybe the only thing that must (or CAN) change right now is internal – a reckoning that God cares about you. He demonstrates it through His provision for you in daily details you may not recognize unless you stop to consider them…” 

God cares about us.

He knows my boys are busting out of the seams of this home, and that my hair is turning prematurely white as a result… AND He’s getting our next home ready, complete with that tree for eating our sandwiches in.

So in the NOW, we’ve got a tiny apartment, a broken pool, two weeks straight of rain in the forecast, and 4 super jumpy homeschooled boys… No big deal.

As for the NOT YET, it’s looking pretty bright, pretty spacious… and the road to get from here to there? It’s looking pretty laced with grace if you ask me.

 

Photo by: Katie Mills Photography