Early last Wednesday, I received a call from the leasing office at my apartment complex that I was going to have to move. The dilemma had been that they were leasing me a four bedroom apartment, but there were no roommates available to occupy the other rooms, so they were leasing this individual room to me, for the price of that room alone and were not therefor making a profit.
Previously, we had agreed that I would be able to remain in that specific apartment unit, nestled comfortably in that corner master room with my kitty. It was going to be perfect. The place was perfectly established and decorated according to my liking, and I was accustomed to the routine of occupying all that cabinet space and thought nothing really of the twin bed where I lay my head night after night, waking and sleeping after a long day spent in front of a computer screen and in meetings in corporate America. It was all about to end.
“So what are my options?” I bluntly asked the front desk lady they assigned to bringing me the news. I had already been totally frazzled at how sudden this all was, and was quite frankly pretty pissed off, at how this conversation was taking place in the context of me stepping quickly aside from my desk at work–a place where I needed to be present and focused. Not only so, but they were only giving me until the next Monday to be totally moved, and I didn’t own a vehicle (still don’t), and they were certainly not offering any assistance for the move.
“Uhm, well, we have your key already made and you’re all set to move into apartment 501 (conveniently, the building right next to the one I was living in at the time), with three other girls. The apartment looks clean and the common space has hard wood floors.”
“Well how big is the room?” I inquired. “I have a cat, and cannot adjust to three separate personalities at the present time, not to mention their possible snooty reactions to my cat. I just can’t do it. It’s not realistic.”
“Uhm well, it’s smaller than your current one, but it’s not the smallest, and the apartment looks relatively clean,” she responded searching desperately for every detail that would encourage me to make this move.
I knew it wasn’t going to work. “Okay, what are my other options, because really I can only adjust to one personality, you know…with the move and all….this is all just so much change.” I muttered through my tear, trying my best to keep my poise.
“Well,” she said, empathizing, “you can always upgrade to a two bedroom two bath.”
“How much is that going to cost?”
“Around $700 per month.” She informed me. I was only used to paying $500 per month, but I had also kept in mind that I was not working full time when it was all said and done. I was so psychologically unstable that life in and out of the hospital was commonplace, typical, all but out of the ordinary.
“Dang it, I’ll take the two bedroom. It’s all I can handle. I mean I am out of college and I am now working full time, so I can make it work.” And just like that I made arrangements to sign official documents and apartment 1707, all the way on the other side of the complex, and it is now the unit I call home.
I’ll tell you honestly that the move sucked out of me, every ounce of life I had after taking into consideration how already exhausted I was from the daily battles of Major Depressive Disorder and PTSD. Moving felt like….what I imagine dying to be like (quite literally), but I am loving it, and God has given me every peace that he will sustain me in this new little setting. I feel his providence. I am so loved.
My New Space
Treating Myself after a long move
Why Does He Do it?
I was feeling sort of sorry for myself and staggered by the fact that God would allow something so unexpected to be tossed my way, out of the clear blue sky. Prepared financially yes (praise God, because my tax refund just hit my account), but not in the least emotionally and mentally.
I had to ask Natalie (my best friend who I respect as a woman of God), “why does he do this?”
“To keep us on our feet Mauri.” She so softLy and innocently replied. The words of her mouth fell graciously on my heart, light as a feather, but left an aftertaste of conviction and brought back to mind that one time that God told me he had intended life to be an adventure. I just needed to trust him, go with the flow, and stay on my feet.
Keeping on our Feet
I think God wants to keep us all in touch with the reality that He is God and can be trusted. I think He actually delights in surprising us, and to be completely honest, while I felt initially targeted by God, I felt ultimately romanced and ministered to by his utter audacity at making all things fall into place, as he promised me they would throughout the entire process.
My cat Samson and I are more than content in our current space and are just enjoying all that the Lord is doing, in giving us rest, and a quiet and very responsible roommate to live with. We are just at home.
Stay on your feet, and remember that he loves you, and keep your heart prepared for the unexpected.
“The life of the righteous is like the dawn, shining ever brighter until the full of day.”