Last night, I drove past The Yellow House to get to my friend's home where our Bible Study was held.

And I cried.

Not big sobbing "Why Me?" kind of tears but just tiny, peaceful rivlets of goodbye to the dream.

And then...

And then...

My realtor was at the Bible Study. In fact, she hosted it at her house, and she told me that The Yellow House had NOT been sold. Something held the process up, and as of this moment it is not sold.

Well, whadda ya know?





I told Jeremy this news when I arrived back at the apartment, and he asked, "?"

"I know!" I said right back at him.

The End.















Really now, this is silly, right? We're building a house, for Pete's sake. (Well, actually we're building it for our sake.) But the owners of the plot of land we've picked out have not made any contact with us in the four weeks that we've tried getting in touch with them. Who knows?

(God does!) So we're leaving it at that.

We are proceeding with the building process (which means we are waiting on the land owners to contact us back) and ignoring The Yellow House. If God wants us to have it instead, He's going to have to call us on the phone and say, "PLEASE GO MOVE INTO THAT HOUSE ALREADY, YOU THICK-HEADED DREAMERS." And then we will.

Maybe.

But if He doesn't call us on the phone and say, "PLEASE GO MOVE INTO THAT HOUSE ALREADY, YOU THICK-HEADED DREAMERS," then we will move into our built home instead and live happily ever after.