What If?

“What if?” That’s typically a question I have reserved for my times of worry…

What if I fail? What if I get rejected? What if I never lose this weight? What if I misheard God? What if I’m not supposed to take this path? What if I never have the money? What if I never find Mr. Right? What if I can’t have kids of my own? What if (fill in your own worry here)?

Those are just to name a few.

But today, I took a small step in a direction that shifted my focus for this question. And when I say small, I mean SMALL! (I know I just used all caps to emphasize the word “small”, but I need you to understand how minuscule this step was.) I sent a friend a message and asked a question. That’s it.

What was the question, you ask?

Well, I asked her what I needed to do to find out if buying a home instead of renting is an option for me. I realize at this point some of you may be thinking, “Ok, so what’s the big deal?” The big deal is that, for over a decade, I have said that I didn’t want to buy a home until I had a husband to go through that with me. Buying a home is just something that has been so HUGE in my mind. Too much for me to do alone. Too overwhelming. Too many worry-filled “What if?”s.

Lately, though, I’ve been thinking about it, at a distance. So much at a distance that it had its own area code. Then I had a moment with Jesus.

You see, I have moved A LOT in my life. So much that it doesn’t even make sense. During this moment with Jesus, I took the time to count how many times I’ve moved just since I’ve moved to Lafayette and I needed more fingers than I was born with to get to the total. So naturally, especially at my age, I am tired of moving. I’m tired of having to sift through apartments and houses that charge too much rent for one bedroom. I’m tired of feeling like I don’t have a home.

So, I did what any reasonable, sensible adult female would do. I threw a pity party. And it was a pretty good one. I’m sorry if I forgot to send you an invitation to this festive event, but I only had room for one. There wasn’t even enough room for Jesus. Of course, there never is when you can only focus on yourself.

After I wiped away all the snot, I decided to ask Jesus what my problem was. You know what He said? Of course you do, because you’re so smart. That’s right. He dropped the f-bomb on me. (A few of you extra holy people just gasped, so let me put your mind at ease.) FEAR. My problem is fear. He showed me that I didn’t want to attempt to buy a house, because I was scared. Scared because… it’s big, it’s new, and well it’s scary, let’s be real here!

So last night, I was talking to my roommate and she was telling me about someone she follows on Instagram who gave a testimony about buying a home and meeting her husband shortly after. (Some of you already know how this is going to end.) So I confessed to her that I had been thinking about seeing if buying was an option for me. Then she, in her infinite wisdom, said, “Well, you never know if you don’t try.” (insert eye roll and deep sigh here—yep, that was my attitude)

Then, today I decided to just send a simple message. And, though that’s not earth-shattering to most people, it was a teensy-weensy little step toward overcoming that fear. It was the first step of many. I mean, I don’t even know if a lender will give me any money, but I took the first step to finding that out.

And you know what changed because of that tiny step? My “What if?”s…

What if I get approved for a loan? What if I find a place I fall in love with? What if I get to live there? What if I get to save some money in the process because it’s actually cheaper than renting? What if I get to live somewhere for more than 5 years? What if God has been waiting for me to take this step to allow me to meet my husband? What if I don’t fail? What if I end up finally feeling like I have a home?

And that, my friend, is how hope is birthed and fear takes one step closer to its grave.