When the Rooster Crows

It’s been a long ride on the struggle bus here.

Our house is sold. We have a September 15th closing date. The inspection has been completed with good report, and we’re moving.

The issue is, however, we don’t know where we’re moving to.

The house we were in the process of buying will not be our house. It’s a long, exhausting story that involves incredible lapse of character in people, and I don’t like those kinds of stories.

What’s more, I don’t like the fact that we may be homeless for a bit. Aside from that, we’re relieved. We’re relieved that house won’t be ours to care for, and we’re relieved to not be involved with it anymore.

After that deal fell through, we (Hubs and I) both felt we were supposed to stay closer to the area where my family was moving. It didn’t make sense to us that if we were all selling/moving at the same time, we would move to a place where we knew no one and still be far away from family. So we started narrowing our search.

Homesteading is not a widespread way of life in that area. I never would have suspected it would be such a challenge to find a home with a little bit of land, allowing for chickens, and a kitchen big enough to fit a canner on the stove.

Not only is it a challenge – it’s seemingly impossible.

At this point, it would appear we have a choice to make. We can choose to live in town (with neighbors. Right. There.) and forego homesteading, or we can move far away from family and continue our homesteading lifestyle.

That’s an awful choice. Homesteading is in my blood. My blood relatives also moved to an area and we feel like we should be near them. This is a bloody mess.

I have prayed. I have cried. I have pleaded. I have hoped. I have lamented.

I have wondered if we’re doing the right thing. I have wondered if we’re making a mistake. I have wondered if I really heard the Lord’s voice in my spirit at all. I have doubted.

So here I sit in this “hell in the hallway” moment. One door has closed, another is not yet open.

We’re packing up a home that will no longer belong to us. We’re intending to move away. We have nowhere to land as of yet.

We have no guarantee we’ll be able to keep the chickens or roosters – the flock I spent so much time selecting so we could breed our own chicks and be more self-sustainable. The flock that we planned would give us delicious, nutrient-dense eggs every single day. (And the occasional roast chicken meal.)

And this morning, Mr. Charles Chickens crowed for the first time. (and it was adorable.) I have no doubt Mr. John Steinpeck will soon follow suit.

I don’t know what to do. I’m praying, pleading for clarity, wisdom, and an ideal solution. And I’m waiting.

Mr. Charles Chickens (and soon, Mr. John Steinpeck) is growing into his next phase of life, and I’m waiting for our own moment to crow our good news. Will you pray my family can find our new, ideal, homesteading/close to family home?

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