Apartment searching stinks. Especially when I am searching from 3,500 miles away. I wish that Jodi Gilmour would show up on my doorstep with the crew from HGTV’s For Rent and present me with three perfect apartment options.

The wish continues: all three apartments are in the heart of downtown, gorgeous, huge, and are all in the perfect price range for our budget. Then once we pick the penthouse/ loft on the top floor overlooking the ocean with 150,000 sf of open living space including a roof top patio and pool, she says “And we want to decorate the whole thing as a gift to you and your husband for being so awesome!”

I know how to dream, right?

So, in order to make my dream come true, I emailed Jodi (yes, I am now on a first name basis with her). I feel a bit ridiculous telling you this story, but whatever, its true. I basically asked if she would help us find an apartment, after asking if we could be on her show.

Twenty minutes later I got an email back from her. (Crazy! I about lost my cool but managed to keep my image intact so as not to appear like a total HGTV geek, which I am). She was kind in her reply, added some helpful tips, and connected us with a realtor. Not quite my dream fulfillment, but it sent a message I needed to hear.

I have been struggling as some of you know with this whole moving business. At its worst I cry or decide I am not doing any work at all and just want to play “Let’s make believe this is not happening” (aka denial). At its best I search the internet for hours for apartments, sometimes daydreaming about our incredible new life in Vancouver, other times frustrated at the cost per square foot (which is insane).

Anyway, what the wonderful host of For Rent expressed, is that she cares and she wants to help. She may not be able to help in the way that I want (see above) but she offered some of her time and expertise which I am sure I could not afford.

Yesterday I told God, “I just want to be cared for”. I tend to be a hyper-responsible over achiever carrying around my own junk without thinking to ask for help. I do it to myself. The apartment search pulls that out of me. I will search and search and find the best one ever- all on my own. It reveals a drivenness, which is not all bad, a pride that is pretty ugly, but leaves a heart that is crushed with the reality of “I cannot do this all by myself”.

I am so thankful that I am not on my own. I have had so many people offer to help us as we write letters and plan yard sales and eventually pack boxes. I have had so many people reach out and offer their friendship in Vancouver- some people I have never even met! I have an incredible husband who is always willing to tell me to relax and pray  for God’s provision and care. I have an amazing family who has invited us to have a two week worry free holiday over Christmas. And now I have Jodi in my contacts box.

God is a God who delights in caring for his children. I am not sure if the challenge is that I forget he cares, or if the challenge is that I forget I am a child. Probably both depending on the day. If I remember I am a child I recognize my powerlessness, my need and dependence on him. If I remember he cares, it becomes easier to trust him to meet my needs, to relax and rest in his power, goodness and love.

As I have said before this process is hard, especially because it is so gosh darn humbling. I really can have all the freak outs I want, it does not change that God is caring, in his way and his timing, for me, for Alastair and for St. Peter’s Fireside. The posture of a child coming to her Father to ask for a home is hard when I am used to getting stuff done on what seems like my own strength and cleverness. But coming to him as a child is honest, revealing my weakness. It is becoming a peaceful and sweet position in which to stand because ultimately I know he will provide.

(By the way—I am stoked that you guys who have contributed and been praying will be able to see photos in a few weeks of our new home that God has provided! )