The for sale sign is in the front yard. We stuck it in the ground together, ceremoniously, and with a lump in our throats. We've lived deeply and well in this home for fourteen years. It means a lot to us. We've raised four kids and owned two dogs while living here. We've worn traffic patterns in the carpet. Gotten our hands dirty in the garden, planting and transplanting.
The sign in the front yard represents movement--our overcoming the inertia of fourteen years of staying in one place. We've put it there in faith that the dream within us to give birth to Sustainable Faith Indy is a God-dream. And so we wait--something that's never been easy for me.
We wait for the one person to walk through our home and say, "This is it!", so that we can, in turn, say the same to the person who owns the property we have identified. A chain of events. A sequence that must be followed for this dream to have it's day.
This morning, as I was reading The Inner Compass by Margaret Silf, she provided a very helpful prompt for prayer. She invited me to visualize leaving my little, secure cottage at the edge of the banks of a river, and to step out onto the stepping stones in the river (of life). The river around me might be racing or it might be calm. Either way, I must stay planted on the one stone, waiting, until God provides the next one. (Oh, and by the way, I can't see the riverbank on the other side.)
Silf writes, "As time passes, I learn to recognize God's ways, and to trust, when I stand in the middle of the fast-moving water, that he will always bring me one more stone--just one--and call me forward to one next step."
So, I'm waiting for one more stone to take one next step. That's all I need. A chain of events. A sequence that must be followed for this dream to have it's day.