This may seem like a small statement. A regular, everyday description of our lives. But, it's not. Rather, it is the end of waiting. The fruit of trusting and believing and digging in to the vision.
When we packed up a U-haul one year and nine months ago and uprooted our family from our hometown in California and drove away from friends and family and familiarity and into Montana, it was after a year of testing. Hard testing.
A seed had been planted four years earlier. A seed about a life in Montana, a state neither of us had ever spent any time in. And that seed was nourished. We envisioned HH taking his building talents and the money we would make on the house we were building. We would buy land, build spec houses, make a living.
HH built this entire house, all the cabinets, the island, nearly everything... over a 10 year period while holding a regular job. Also, while we created our family.
But, then time passed and life changed. We finished the house and put it on the market. Days later, the stock market crashed and the real estate market took a hard dive. It would be a year before the house would sell after many price reductions. It would be a year where the building business suffered too. We were tested. We stood on the precipice of losing everything we'd spent ten years building. And it was hard. The kind of hard where silence takes over because there is nothing more to say.
I'd like to say that this was a time when we dug into our faith, hit our knees, opened the Book to the words in red. But, it wasn't. It was a time of frozen waiting for Him to show up. It was also the months I was pregnant with Little Bear, the time when I started blogging.
A year after putting it on the market, we had one offer. And it was from a family made up of a married man and his pregnant mistress. He wanted to hide the house from his wife; buy it without her knowing. He wanted "creative financing." We were tempted. Lose it all or compromise.
We'd written scripture on the walls of that house. We'd inscribed, "He is our mighty Fortress!" in permanent marker under the primer and paint. We trusted Him. But, after a year, this was the only offer. The Montana seed was long smothered, but the house needed to sell regardless.
We said no. And it was not a "no" rooted in our own strength. We found out later that one of our closest friends, who lived continents away, had been fasting and praying for us. He felt he'd been called to fast for us... and this still makes me cry... for thirty days. He went without for 30 days on our behalf.
We said no and a week later we received a great offer from a sweet family. The heavy burden lifted, clarity came quick and that long planted seed sprouted and grew. We would go and we wouldn't go to build. HH had always wanted to be fireman and it became clear that this was the career he should pursue.
This was the day we left.
My friend once said that HH is like a ship. He cuts through the water steady and strong. And that has been true of him these last few years. He's volunteered at the local fire department, taken classes, and pursued the goal. Honestly, I doubted at times. Wanted him to try for other careers, knowing it was a difficult position to find. We watched local fire departments struggle with budget cuts. But, he continued to cut through the waters. To believe.
And then a few weeks ago he was hired. And not in Seattle where he'd applied. And not in Spokane. And not in Bozeman or Missoula. Not anywhere where he would need to commute. He was hired as a fireman here, where we live.
This is his volunteer locker. Don't have any pics yet from the new department.
So you see, it is no small statement for me to say...
My husband went to work today. He's a fireman.