Better Than Expected

I’ve noticed a shift in mindset regarding the sale of our lake house. Months ago, we prayed “the prayer of indifference” and we meant it. My husband and I, considering two options,  thinking them equal… and thinking we’d leave it to God. We have, of course, left it to God. 

Early September when our realtor called saying, “It’s time,” I had a moment of panic. Are we really doing this? Should we?? It took a few days to adjust. To regain indifference. To say, okay, let’s see what happens. Placing our home on the market-altar. 

And now. Here we are, months in. Months of waiting. And wondering. Both of us admitting, we’ve flipped. Not that long ago we saw our newly built lake home as too precious to leave. Now we dream daily of a 1950’s rambler just down the street from grandkids.

Did God give us this dream? We believe He did. And if it’s really our Father leaving these breadcrumbs, giving visions and clues, can we hold our options with open hands? 

Yes, of course, we can. 

Last Sunday our son preached at his church, and his Dad and I were there to hear it. Oh my. It’s crazy how a life unfolds and one day you’re listening to your own son preaching and you remember a dream you had when you were merely a child. A child full of so many dreams her mama said, “You have a tendency to fantasize”—which honestly, I’ve heard my husband say, too. 

Everything we’re doing right now—moving houses and churches and the whole trajectory of life—has come out of dreams and whispers. 

Grant’s sermon was in a series on Essentials. And of course, since he’s the Worship Pastor, he got to preach his vocational topic. A few beats into his sermon, Grant taught us about the “principal of first mention” and how in Scripture the first appearance of a concept or word determines its definition. So the first time the Bible mentions worship we find Abraham taking his sobering journey with his young son Isaac. 

Then Abraham said to his young men, “Stay here with the donkey. The boy and I will go over there to worship; then we’ll come back to you.” (Genesis 22:5) 

I wish you could have heard my son telling this story in person. It didn’t occur to me then, but I realize now, he’s Daddy to four, so of course he’d feel it. He’d feel the crazy clear to the bone. Abraham’s swift obedience to this gut-wrench request. Take your son to the altar. 

Grant explains this the only way he can—

“Whatever God is asking must be better than what I expect Him to do.”

I look back at a lifetime of altars, and I see how God is always good. Always better than what I expected. 

Decades ago, my husband pounded a “for sale” sign into the ground at our Andover house, just a couple of years after we built it. Deja vu. Whenever Kyle tells the story he says, “I had this picture of Abraham at the altar.” And that time our house didn’t sell. We lived in the place for 23 years, raised three sons, and adopted two more. 

Two more sons. And again I found myself thinking of altars. I remember saying, “We’ve placed family as we’ve known it on God’s altar.” 

But each time we laid something down, we received it back, hundredfold. 

Test me in this way,” says the Lord of Armies. “See if I will not open the floodgates of heaven and pour out a blessing for you without measure.” (Malachi 3:10) 

Give, and it will be given to you; a good measure—pressed down, shaken together, and running over—will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you. (Luke 6:38) 

It’s true. I’m here to testify. God’s word is true. 

Last weekend my son talked about how we tend to worship idols. It was Super Bowl Sunday, which made for a timely illustration. He quoted Augustine saying, “Our problem isn’t in loving the wrong things. It’s in loving the right things in the wrong order.” 

I wrote it in my notes: 

re-order

re-order

re-order 

What it comes own to is this. The heart of worship is always a heart of trust. I know this. It’s praying the prayer that never fails— 

God, I trust you. 

No matter what. 

TRUST. 

When I was just a girl, I remember having this dream. A vision of sorts. I was a mom, and boys were singing. And now. Sunday last. My son preached, and then he sang, leading us in heartfelt worship. And I sat stunned with tears in my eyes, as the dream came rushing back. 

Always better than expected.