One of the reasons I wanted to come to the USA (for more on that, read my previous blog here) was to say goodbye to my childhood home. My parents recently moved a few hours away from where I grew up and have been in the process of selling their old house (my old home) for the last few months. I have only lived in three places: that house for 18 years, college, and my flat in Budapest. I become quite attached to my spaces. Even though I wanted to see the house before they sold it, I asked God to help them sell it to the right people and that he didn’t have to hold onto it for my sake, even though that is what I really wanted.
I had resigned myself to not getting to see it. I was supposed to be home in December and it was sure to be sold before then. Then some things happened and I ended up coming to the USA two weeks earlier, and it looked like I was going to get my chance—as things should be finalized on the sale next week. This week was my shot! I had a plan all worked out.
Then I got sick. Exhibiting some Covid-19 symptoms—or really symptoms of any cold—I went to get a test. And I worried. I worried about whether I would be able to take the trip to Florida I had planned. I worried about whether or not I was going to lose a lot of money if I couldn’t fly. I worried about infecting others. But most of all, I worried about how I would be able to see my house and say goodbye.
Though many people were praying for fast and negative results, I didn’t think it would happen. I made contingency plans and they fell through. I got discouraged and I lost hope.
These are such small worries in the grand scheme of things, and yet, when faced with such small things, I lost hope.
But God is so good to me. He answered those prayers. My test came back in two days, the minimum amount of time. It was negative. We worked something out so that I could still say goodbye to my house. He came through on something so small, even when I lost confidence that he would.
I know his answers to prayers are not always yes, but he cares for me so well and I doubt him so often.
There’s a song I have been kicking around in my head the last few days called “Who Am I” by NEEDTOBREATHE. The chorus mimics the words of Psalm 8:4, stating, “Who am I, to be loved by you?” That struck me—when I am so fickle towards him, he still loves me. But the pre-chorus has also been echoing:
“I push You away, still You won’t let go
You grow Your roses on my barren soul”
In this year of confusion and frustration, even though it has been easier for me than most, I often feel like barren soil. I frequently struggle to trust that he is working all things for good. I struggle to trust that he will guide me. But truly, “If we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot disown himself” (2 Timothy 2:3).
My silly worries this week have reminded me on a larger scale of these lessons. So, here I sit, still learning to follow and trust the Lord above all else. I’m still learning to really be faithful, in the little things and the big things.
What about you?