Breathing again.

This morning I was prompted to read Ezekiel 37 by an email received and, as I read, I really could see how this pertained to me. Although the text appeared to be about something altogether different, I could apply those words in verse 5 to myself.

2018 has been a perplexing year. From January 1st to May 9th it dragged on in excruciating pain, even though it began before then. Waiting is hard. We all hate waiting. And waiting for that ONE person to want to buy our house in Georgia was SO hard. I fought waiting at every turn; filling myself with anger and confusion, skeptic that anyone would come along and buy that house. In my mind, nothing was wrong with it. I could not understand why no one wanted to buy it, I just wanted to get moving. Bill had been in Nevada already for 6 months when Mary and I finally boarded a plane taking us and the dogs across the country.

The waiting was hell. I think I cried every single day. It left me stuck. We didn't live. We waited. We cleaned the house to sparkling every day, trying to keep the dog hair to a minimum so someone could walk through the house in ten minutes and decide it wasn't for them.

We had started packing up the house in October 2017, as soon as we heard that Bill would get the job and knew we needed to have the house present well for potential buyers; no clutter, no personal things out. We wouldn't want anyone to know we lived there, for heaven's sake. The garage was packed to the gills.

We were packed and more than ready to be on our way for six months.

The day someone actually decided the house was for them was the day the movers were there. We had decided to go ahead and move, hoping it wouldn't take too long to sell once the house was empty. If it didn't, we were prepared to put it up on the rental market.

The first couple of weeks in Nevada were new and exciting! We had a week to kill before the movers arrived, bringing all that stuff that had waited in the garage along with the furniture. We drove around, getting a feel for the area, exploring the mountains and waiting. The movers came and went and we settled into the task of unpacking.

Then we decided to build the town home. We signed the contract to build in June. Now we're waiting again. The rental home was not the type of home we could stay in, not only because the rent would just keep going up, but the layout was just too much. Home prices seemed to be going up and the medium price of a home was more than I thought we could handle, so the town home was a great option.

We've had quite a list of issues since we got the keys about seven weeks ago (already?), and, at times, (many times) I've wondered if this was the right decision. 2018 is drawing to a close quickly and I need to make my way through this past year of questioning, doubt, loneliness, anger and holding my breath, waiting to see what will happen.

I've felt stuck. Hopeless and helpless. And, quite frankly, alone. Too alone.

So, whether you believe in what the Bible says or not, this passage talked to me. For me.

'I am going to put breath into you and make you live again.'

For a year, I didn't live.

I'm looking forward to living and breathing again. I am intentionally walking into the new year, preparing myself, looking for the joy and breathing... every day.