One thing I was certain of as a child: when I grew up, I would be a mom. I envisioned myself living in a comfy country home with plenty of land and a few pets, married and enjoying our three children.
Things did not start out quite as I had envisioned. I was married alright; but both of us being teenagers, we still had our fair share of growing up to do. If it were not for God, those early years would have thrown us in with the statistics and all the “false prophets” who insisted our marriage would never make it to two years. But we hung in there. We lived in a somewhat cockroach-infested apartment, but we were doing our best to make it. We had a backyard that you could practically reach across, but it was outside—that was more than many of our neighbors had. And somehow we managed to have a couple little Persian cats. God knew what He was doing when He gave us animals to be our friends.
Gradually—the way God usually intends it—things started to change. I learned of some wonderful resources our church had for fostering spiritual growth and I started to look at Christianity in a new, deeper sense. Life was hard, but the Lord was teaching me not to revel in it.
My intense longing to be in the country was still there, too. Somewhere along the line, my hubby decided he agreed with the idea and the Lord opened the door wide: less rent, our own separate house (a small singlewide mobile home), an actual yard—we could even have a small garden! We jumped on the opportunity! Within a year after that, we were in a nearby home on a whole acre of land—simply awesome!
But there was still a problem and one day my husband laid his foot down, so to speak…