This House On Cheshire Court

This past Sunday was a day I let it all out.
My disappointment, that is.
I aired out all my disappointments…
Directly at my God.

Yes, my Heavenly Father. The One I owe my life to, the One I can’t wait to see face to face in heaven, the One I live on this earth for.

How could I do such a thing?
How could I not?

I needed to have an honest conversation directly with Him. He already knew how I was feeling anyway. And it was not some petty complaint about life, it was downright an ugly cry I’ve been fighting for weeks.

So I let myself go there…as I drove to the very place, the very epicenter of my disappointment.

This house on Cheshire Court.

I’ve owned it for over a decade. Before that, it was the house I called home in college. It became the place my brother and I lived together for 4 years til I married; it kept us close at the age when most siblings drift apart.

Tony carried me through its front door upon returning from our honeymoon. All but 2 months of our marriage are memories from this house.

It holds a lot. Though now it sits empty. It’s in the final stages of renovation before it goes on the market (after renters left quite a mess behind…sigh).

So I stood there in the front yard, tear-stained face to its facade. I stood there facing my disappointment.

I know it’s time to let this last financial burden go. For that I am grateful.

Yet, it’s one more thing representing a shattered dream.

I’ve let go of pretty much every familiar, tangible piece of my former life. I can’t help but feel so empty-handed.

I know that that my great God calls me to remain open-handed with my life, with my future. I know He works in the unseen, in the intangible. I know that open hands don’t necessarily mean empty hands, that open hands mean freedom for God to do what only He can do, however and in whatever timing He chooses.

I know.

But for today, I allow myself to feel the hurt of disappointment, to acknowledge its sting, to let the tears flow.

And even still, I put all my hope in the One who can handle all my disappointments, all my tears, and still lay out a future and a home for me in heaven that makes anything on this earth just not even worth crying over.

Dearly loved, with a house to sell,
Melissa

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