I hurriedly tucked in each child. With a hug and a prayer, they easily settled into a deep, childish sleep. I stole into the office and whipped out my ever-present laptop, which housed all my faithful friends. Wrapped in a comforter, I reclined in my chair and happily retreated into my “n’other world.”
It booted up and I watched it go through all its routines, strangely comforted by the fact that it did the same thing every single time. Instant Message popped up and I browsed the list of friends on the screen. All was quiet. My heart ached and no one was available. Frustration reared its head until something caught my eye. A bug flitted by and drew my attention to the Bible sitting beside me on the table.
“No God, I don’t want to hear from You right now.” I purposefully avoided The Book that I knew would give me answers. Why would God call us to pack up all of our belongings, put them in a storage shed, and go half way across the United States?
I had spent much time making this house into a home. We quickly filled up the 3 bedrooms with boys. I painted big red fire trucks on the walls of one room and dinosaurs on another. The Master bedroom, I feather-painted and it turned out so pretty. I had no desire to leave and I wasn’t making it easy on my husband. Many nights we both fell asleep with our backs to the other.
Business was no longer plentiful. Greg felt that God was telling him that we had to move. Not only that, he was moving us in with his parents. From the few times I had been with my in-laws, I knew that I would have to swallow my pride and keep my mouth closed to keep peace.
“Lord,” I prayed, “I don’t want to move. Please don’t make me. This is our home. This is where You planted us.” Tears spilled from my eyes and my laptop lay forgotten. I used my sleeve to mop up my tears and wipe my nose. Then, in between my sobs I heard a small voice.
“Mommy?” The oldest tiptoed his way into the office and looked at me, scared.
I reached out and pulled him close. “Colten, Mommy’s okay. I’m just a little sad.”
He looked at me with his chocolately brown eyes that melted my heart. “You don’t wanna move, do you Mommy?”
Wise beyond his years, he got to the core of the problem and made me deal with it then and there. “No, Honey, I don’t want to move. I love this house. This is where we brought you after you were born. See that hole in the wall? That’s where you fell off the couch, remember?”
“But Mommy, I can make new holes in the wall when we move. Will that make you feel better? Will you not be mad at Daddy then?”
A sob escaped my mouth. I had no idea that my thoughts and actions were so obvious that a seven-year-old could pick up on them. If Colten knew this, surely my husband did, too. No wonder he had been so cold to me lately.
“Mommy, your computer friends are trying to talk to you.” I heard the soft chime but was engrossed in this perceptive little boy that was growing up so quickly. “Mommy, we can’t take this house with us, right?”
“No, silly. We can’t drag it along behind the mini-van.”
Colten giggled at the thought then bent down to see which online friend was calling for my attention. “Mommy?”
“All the fun things we did in this house and the silly things we said can fit inside here, right?” He raised his pudgy little boy arm and laid his hand on my heart. I could feel the warmth invade my body. He wasn’t finished. The little Stinker had more to say.
“Sooo,” he looked up at me to make sure he had my attention, as if ready to deliver his big punch line, “we can’t take the house with us but we can take our home.”
I wrapped him up in the comforter with me and we sat quietly, lost in our own thoughts. I patted his back and he rubbed my shoulder as the IM chimed in the background. My friends could wait. I was busy in this ‘other world’ being ministered to by God through my son.
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