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10th October 2011

where’er you languish

where'er you languish

I was late to church yesterday. I was switched to a new congregation (another story) and their services start at 9:00 am, and I was late. So rather than waiting another waiting another 10 minutes for the bus, I decided to drive. I got to church only a couple of minutes behind and drove around looking for a parking place. And drove. I circled the block 3 times, extending the radius. Nothing. After 15 minutes of this, I threw up my hands and yelled at God that if he didn’t help me find a parking place, I was going home and I was going to be done. With everything. With believing and sacrificing and trying to maintain faith.

Tears started then and I continued my yelling of frustration over how my prayers had been answered with silence. For months, I had prayed and pleaded for a solution to my house problem. I had no offers on the house. I was pursuing a short sale, but in order to do that, you actually have to have a buyer and I had nobody looking at my house. Renting was prolonging the inevitable and I was dreading the nightmare that foreclosure would bring.

The talks at general conference last week were all about the general authorities finding their quarters or five dollar bills – all of their prayers answered just so perfectly. I was so frustrated and angry at Heaven’s silence.

Two minutes later, two blocks farther than where I wanted to park, I found a parking spot and made it to church, which was uplifting and calming and the ward was welcoming.

Today, I opened up my email and found a message from my realtor that we have a potential offer – an offer with the promise of helping me with the mortgage payments until the paperwork goes through. I started crying on the elevator: my boss, who knows how much this has been weighing on me, hugged me. There’s a lot that could go wrong: I’m freaked out about convincing the bank to agree to the short sale and going through all of this to just end in foreclosure.

But, there’s a glimmer of hope, absent yesterday, a whisper that I have not been forgotten. And my faith burns a bit stronger.

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