I should have known it was coming. A woman can handle only so much stress before she caves under the weight, and I was overdue. I’d been riding on an optimistic carpet ride through a fast-moving real estate game that could spin out of control any moment.
It didn’t help that I was hormonal, and when my eyes popped open at 3 a.m. this morning I didn’t know whether to blame pregnancy insomnia or simply a over-worked brain. Try as I might, even with a dose of trusty Benadryl, I could not fall back asleep.
My mind wandered.
And it wondered.
It wondered how today’s home inspection would go.
It wandered over to an invisible to-do list:
I need to set-up a change of address.
I must contact the utilities company.
Did I ever put new batteries back in the smoke detector?
I left that new dress for the baby wet in the washer!
And as I hobbled out of bed to the laundry room I thought of how much I had to do, and how little time I had to do it in.
Did I tell y’all the prospective buyers wanted to close on our house in less than two weeks?!!
And what about this blasted inspection?
How will I ever feel like packing all day if I can’t get some sleep!
I eventually fell asleep. About 1/2 an hour before my alarm was set to go off for an early morning home inspection. I wasn’t surprised one bit that in that short period of sleep I dreamt about current happenings. I dreamed the inspector came much earlier than scheduled, and as I sat on the side of the bed, groggy after jolting awake to my alarm, I realized I heard voices.
My husband was at the door talking to the inspector who had arrived a good hour early, and I raised an eyebrow when I peeked out the window and realized he drove the same pick-up truck he arrived in within my dream.
I quickly gathered up the sleeping children in their pajamas and hurried out the door in a hazy fog. I still felt like I was dreaming, and drove away slowly with so much weighing on my mind.
You tell yourself not to worry, not to stress, and to trust in God, but it’s much easier said than done. And though my faith was still shining bright, it didn’t change the fact that I was a jumbled-up ball of stress and hormones riding low on three hours of sleep.
After another almost three hours of waiting for strangers to leave my home I finally surrendered and took my kids over to my in-laws to ride it out. As we went inside and they ran off happily to play with their cousins, I slid back out to the front porch. I collapsed into a rigid rocking chair, and I broke down.
I ugly cried. I ugly cried the ugly cry of all ugly cries, but it wouldn’t be the last today.
While I sat with my mother-in-law as the role of sounding board, and I spouted out my feelings, the phone rang.
I nodded. I said, “thank you for letting me know,” and I felt void of emotion despite the bad news. I guess I had cried out all the tears I had, for the moment, and with dry eyes I hung up the phone and told my mother-in-law, “well, I’m no longer selling my house.”
They had backed out. The energetic, rushed buyers with cash in hand had said never mind. The findings on the inspection were minor, fixable, common occurrences, but they quickly used them as a reason to say farewell. And as fast as a contract had come, it was gone.
No more moving in less than two weeks, and back to square one of having no idea what was coming next. As I hugged goodbye, heading back to my home, I felt the heat building behind my eyes. I looked at the sympathetic countenance of my mother-in-law, and I managed to hold on to my persistent tears. But I knew they’d come again.
I felt wasted, and now on top of fatigue and irrational hormones, I also felt uncertain, scared, and unsure. I clung to Jesus. I called out, rather cried out, to Him, and I felt Him there. But I still wanted to cry.
In the midst of my own feelings of disappointment and fear I still saw the world around me. I saw a mother preparing her little girl my baby’s age for her first chemo treatment, and I saw another mother grieving over the loss of her unborn child. I cried again, but this time for pain beyond what was happening in my own little world.
Perspective. It changes everything.
My problems were nothing in the grand scheme, and God’s plan for my life had remained unchanged. The path had just detoured a bit.
My eyes still burn, and I may cry again before the day ends, but I have hope. I have faith, and I believe in things beyond what I can see. In my minor angst I cling closer to the cross, and I pray for those with issues far greater than my own that they too may always hold tight to our Savior.
And even then remember that it’s still ok to ugly cry. Sometimes you just have to.
AnneW says
Brie, I am so sorry this happened. Of course, it was devastating and disappointing. Don’t be hard on yourself, you deserve a good cry or several.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you. I truly believe things will look up in this situation soon. But until then, I definitely got out a good cry.
meltedflowers says
Love u. It’s gonna be ok.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you. I believe it will be. Still riding on optimism.
dlg says
So sorry, there are days I hate the realtor world myself. It is the buyers or sellers that get excited then these things happen, that is when I get upset. It certainly isn’t about making money.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you.
Our lives-His Purposes, Ruthie's impressions says
Shoot yeah!!! You earned that cry, worked for it and by golly you got it!!! And it really does help a little bit. And that house is gonna sell!!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you!