on the banks of plum creek
A letter came to our house, certified mail, from the builder at the airport project. I'd like to tell you that because of much prayer, we are now in the development. But such is not the case, as this letter detailed the process of being selected in such grammatic form that only a math wizard could decipher. It went something like this, and I quote from memory: "We are talking to people in groups of 10, over a period of 5 days, and scheduling appointments. You will then have 72 hours to decide, and if you can't be scheduled, you will be moved to the next group of 10, which will not be scheduled until everyone in the previous group has declined or scheduled in 72 hours, in that case someone from the next group in the order of their number will be moved up, or someone moved down."
After extensive re-reading of this letter and the help of a calculator, I figured out it could be 2 months just to know if we have a chance to get in. As the dream to be at the airport fades, we are of good cheer, because God never says no to something without a very good reason.
A very good reason perhaps being Plum Creek, a neighborhood Steve discovered and one we had ruled out because it's not in Austin, it's in Kyle. I was NOT going to leave Austin I told him.
But the other night as we looked at their website, I began to see how great this neighborhood would be for our boys. Soccer fields, basketball courts, stocked fishing pond, pools, golfing, elementary school, performing arts center... I begin to catch the vision.
I drive down to Plum Creek with my boys, and I know you'll be shocked to learn I was looking for a sign from God as I entered the neighborhood. At the first intersection, there was a little white sign sticking out of the grass. Family Fishing Day, June 9th. "Check that out, Syd," I say. Are we not to be fishers of men? As we drive through the neighborhood, with it's country setting and white picket fences, I envision ourselves here. I'm no Laura Ingalls Wilder, but I can really see it.
I pull up to a huge Georgian replica of a house, see above, clearly the "Tara" of Plum Creek. There is a for sale sign in front, and a porch that wraps around the entire house. There is a turreted roof on one side, where Scarlett - that being me - could look out from her bedroom at the goings on below. Yes, I think, this is the house for me. I mean, seriously, the human mind is just stupid. I continue on ..., yes, I will send my boys off to school and then have a quiet time with Jesus on the porch in one of my twelve rocking chairs, and then spend my days roaming from room to room, or perhaps running through the wildflowers, or whatever else people in the country do.
I show the house later to Steve on the internet and he just laughs. He really laughs. "What would we do with a house that big?" I do tend to see his point. In fact, the house I currently favor is smaller than our house now and costs less, which I kind of dig. No upgrading for us... and not that we are being sacrificial - the idea of living simply is just suddenly really appealing.
I drive around downtown Kyle, wondering how it will be to live in a small town. I grew up in a relatively small town, but nothing like the sweet little town of Kyle. I picture Syd and Ben going to the local high school, Ben on the football team. I see myself as the intrusive mom, fully assimilated to small town life by then, driving around in an old Chevy pick-up, Coke Icee in hand, looking for my boys at the Dairy Queen late on a Friday night. Oh I could easily do this. I would have a bunch of firecrackers in the truckbed, just in case we ever have need.
The phone rings. "Hi, this is Lauren from Nordstrom's, calling for Anne. Just wanted you to know we have our semi-annual womens and kids sale going on right now." I'm busy Lauren, I think, don't remind me of how far I'll be from Austin's shops. And besides, I have to save up money for a head of cattle or whatever it is that people in Kyle save up for. I mean really, the human mind is just stupid.
I know if we move here I am going to have to talk to people, and not just the random ones I like at the grocery store. There will probably be children coming to my house. I will have to get to know their moms. I will have to love like Jesus. I know Jesus is putting us up to this and so I'm good with it. I have already decided that if we do this, I am not going to just talk about the greatness of God and leave it at that. I am going to pray for His miracles to occur; I believe that is His evangelism program. For testimonies coming out of Plum Creek about the God who heals and redeems!
At the mention of our city's lost at tonight's prayer meeting, the tears begin. A little of it is for me, for giving up the dream of being at Mueller. But there is no way I'm abandoning the hope He has given me for this city. Austin just became larger, it's city limits expanded by 20 miles southward. Home is where the heart is, no doubt. And God's heart is all over Austin. East, west, north, south... His arms stretch out on a cross that covers our city. Can't you feel his healing power? He is coming back! And satan is on the defensive.
After extensive re-reading of this letter and the help of a calculator, I figured out it could be 2 months just to know if we have a chance to get in. As the dream to be at the airport fades, we are of good cheer, because God never says no to something without a very good reason.
A very good reason perhaps being Plum Creek, a neighborhood Steve discovered and one we had ruled out because it's not in Austin, it's in Kyle. I was NOT going to leave Austin I told him.
But the other night as we looked at their website, I began to see how great this neighborhood would be for our boys. Soccer fields, basketball courts, stocked fishing pond, pools, golfing, elementary school, performing arts center... I begin to catch the vision.
I drive down to Plum Creek with my boys, and I know you'll be shocked to learn I was looking for a sign from God as I entered the neighborhood. At the first intersection, there was a little white sign sticking out of the grass. Family Fishing Day, June 9th. "Check that out, Syd," I say. Are we not to be fishers of men? As we drive through the neighborhood, with it's country setting and white picket fences, I envision ourselves here. I'm no Laura Ingalls Wilder, but I can really see it.
I pull up to a huge Georgian replica of a house, see above, clearly the "Tara" of Plum Creek. There is a for sale sign in front, and a porch that wraps around the entire house. There is a turreted roof on one side, where Scarlett - that being me - could look out from her bedroom at the goings on below. Yes, I think, this is the house for me. I mean, seriously, the human mind is just stupid. I continue on ..., yes, I will send my boys off to school and then have a quiet time with Jesus on the porch in one of my twelve rocking chairs, and then spend my days roaming from room to room, or perhaps running through the wildflowers, or whatever else people in the country do.
I show the house later to Steve on the internet and he just laughs. He really laughs. "What would we do with a house that big?" I do tend to see his point. In fact, the house I currently favor is smaller than our house now and costs less, which I kind of dig. No upgrading for us... and not that we are being sacrificial - the idea of living simply is just suddenly really appealing.
I drive around downtown Kyle, wondering how it will be to live in a small town. I grew up in a relatively small town, but nothing like the sweet little town of Kyle. I picture Syd and Ben going to the local high school, Ben on the football team. I see myself as the intrusive mom, fully assimilated to small town life by then, driving around in an old Chevy pick-up, Coke Icee in hand, looking for my boys at the Dairy Queen late on a Friday night. Oh I could easily do this. I would have a bunch of firecrackers in the truckbed, just in case we ever have need.
The phone rings. "Hi, this is Lauren from Nordstrom's, calling for Anne. Just wanted you to know we have our semi-annual womens and kids sale going on right now." I'm busy Lauren, I think, don't remind me of how far I'll be from Austin's shops. And besides, I have to save up money for a head of cattle or whatever it is that people in Kyle save up for. I mean really, the human mind is just stupid.
I know if we move here I am going to have to talk to people, and not just the random ones I like at the grocery store. There will probably be children coming to my house. I will have to get to know their moms. I will have to love like Jesus. I know Jesus is putting us up to this and so I'm good with it. I have already decided that if we do this, I am not going to just talk about the greatness of God and leave it at that. I am going to pray for His miracles to occur; I believe that is His evangelism program. For testimonies coming out of Plum Creek about the God who heals and redeems!
At the mention of our city's lost at tonight's prayer meeting, the tears begin. A little of it is for me, for giving up the dream of being at Mueller. But there is no way I'm abandoning the hope He has given me for this city. Austin just became larger, it's city limits expanded by 20 miles southward. Home is where the heart is, no doubt. And God's heart is all over Austin. East, west, north, south... His arms stretch out on a cross that covers our city. Can't you feel his healing power? He is coming back! And satan is on the defensive.
Then this evil Babylonian arrives and goes fishing. He pulls in a good catch. He catches his limit and fills his creel— a good day of fishing! He's happy! He praises his rod and reel, piles his fishing gear on an altar and worships it! It's made his day, and he's going to eat well tonight! Are you going to let this go on and on? Will you let this Babylonian fisherman fish like a weekend angler, killing people as if they're nothing but fish?
And then God answered: "Write this. Write what you see. Write it out in big block letters so that it can be read on the run. This vision-message is a witness pointing to what's coming. It aches for the coming—it can hardly wait! And it doesn't lie. If it seems slow in coming, wait. It's on its way. It will come right on time. Look at that man, bloated by self-importance— full of himself but soul-empty. But the person in right standing before God through loyal and steady believing is fully alive, really alive. "
from Habakkuk 1 and 2, (the Message)