Thursday, April 26, 2012

The song of the bird sitting on top of her cage



I'm sitting on top of my cage right now.  The cage has been my house.  It's been too small for comfort, it's been run down and in need of repair, and most of all I've been unable to pay for it.  But I've thanked God for the cute little shelter that it is for my family and friends.  I sang like a little thankful bird on her nest because God has blessed me with so much.

Ted was let go from his job two years ago.  A few businesses that didn't materialize (and one in which we were horribly taken advantage of) and what feels like millions of jobs that he applied for and didn't get have made this an impossible time financially.  Suddenly we realized that we were being foreclosed on, and once the process started we were powerless to stop it.  The bank wouldn't except our late payments.  I drove on the day of the foreclosure rushing to try to pay the bank and stop them in time, and the lawyers presiding over the foreclosure wouldn't wait ten minutes, even though they knew we were coming.  In the car I yelled at God, "WHERE ARE YOU?".  Wasn't he supposed to be fighting for me in the midst of setbacks?   Providing for me in my weakness?   We had done all we could and now were losing our home.  And where was God in this fight?

Over Thanksgiving and Christmas this year I fought against my shame and my anger with God.  I was counseled by some amazing ladies and friends from church who showed me that God was really fighting for me.  That he was fighting the spirits that bore down on me with shame and abandonment  even as I was crying out for Him to do something.  That I had trouble because, "In this world we will have trouble."  And that the bank is a system of the world and therefore imperfect.  They lifted up my head and told me I was doing a great job, they actually admired me in the middle of my messieness, even when I would call sobbing and yelling and full of doubt, angry and impatient for resolution.

 It was hard work still fighting the doubt and shame.  I was petrified of having to pack boxes and having no idea where we were going.  Then God reminded me of Abraham who was commended in Hebrews 10:8 for his faith as he left his home, "Even though he did not know where he was going".  That verse made me cringe.  But I heard it everywhere like God was chasing be down with it.  So I asked him if he was chasing me down with it an he said, "That's what I do".  He chases us down with lovingkindness.  I actually laughed.  When I asked what he wanted me to do with it He said I needed to say that scripture like it was who I am.  So if I started to feel overwhelmed or afraid I would say to myself, "But Allison has faith even though she does not know where she was going."  It was hard at first but as I said it I became it.  I was a strong woman with faith like Abraham.

Ted decided to go back to school full time online in January (he had been going part time online since he lost his job) and Lord willing finish a information systems degree this year.  Shortly after this decision, God provided some money for us to rent a house (hallelujah!).  It was hard to look for a place when the Mortgage company had not contacted us since the foreclosure so we had no idea when we would need to move.  We could have a month or year for all we knew.  It felt like an anvil was sitting on top of our heads.  We prayed and felt like in March it was time to start looking.  My emotions seemed to change daily based on the houses we were looking at.   None of them were as nice as the one I was leaving.  In my head I wondered, even if we find a place how could we ever get through an application process or a credit check?

As I said goodbye to my garden I asked God for fruit trees, for space away from neighboors, for flowers.  I said goodbye to the house, and  I asked for space, a concrete floor for a pottery studio, for big walls for art to hang on, for a fireplace, for closets.  I asked God to show me what the house would be like so I would be sure it was the right place.  This might seem silly but as I prayed I kept seeing wood, trees, and an old garden, and a view.

The kids and I stepped into a 1960's ranch on a culdesac tucked between rolling hills of Blacksburg's Glade Road.  The owner was an organic farmer who had bought the property so he could work the land around it and rent out the house.  I peppered the poor, quiet man with comments about how I loved the big kitchen, the huge windows with garden views all around, and all the built in bookshelves (if you know us that is a big plus).  I asked him if I could paint myself, if I could pick out the colors,  if we could pick from the apple and pear trees and black raspberry bushes, if the double garage could be used as a studio.  I felt like Anne as she talks to Matthew (another quiet farmer) on the way to Green Gables.  I was talking so much I felt like a pest!

Meanwhile my kids ran down the halls of the house and in the yard so fast I apologized to the farmer.  We filled out an application which asked lots of hard questions.  Income per month?  Credit Check?  Ever been evicted?  References?  I asked God to open the door if it was the right one because this door was clearly not openable by me my family or our quailfications.

He offered us the house.  And later he told me it was because I offered to paint it myself.  Go figure!

I still wondered if we could have stayed in our little house longer.  Then we happily signed the lease to the farm house and three days later we got an eviction notice in the mail.  
Our eviction court date was set for 3 days after we were scheduled to move into the new house.  The number 3 is significant in the bible as being "divinely perfect".  And this all happened on the day before Easter.  I felt like God was putting an exclamation point on his perfect timing for us.

 When the farmer called, you have no idea the burden off my shoulders.  It was like the little house, the things I could never fix , the bill collection calls, the shame of not being able to pay for it, all my questions all lifted off of me.
I looked at a drawing I had done last summer, a bird being released from her cage.  It was me.  God didn't want me to stay here he had something better all along. He cares about what I care about.  He is helping me take care of my family.   I am leaving, shame free, trusting again.  Trusting deeper.  God has fought and won.  I have fought and won.  And now I am free, and I am still singing.
illustration of Roman 8:28 I did before the Foreclosure, little did I know what it says to me now!  
A friend told me this weekend that "You will sing the song of the bird who is sitting on top of her cage".   I asked Him this weekend "Why do you love me, how am I special?"  He said, "You were the bird singing in her cage before it was opened".

 Then I realized our houses, our bodies, this life, all cages.  God didn't put us in them, they are here because sin entered the world, forged long before us.  Even as I cry out "Where are You God?" he is working to free me.  He is fashioning all things in my life (good, bad, and foreclosure) even the ones the enemy tries to destroy me with,  into a key to open the cage.  We live in these cages and love each other in them we thank God for his mercies as we sing in them.  He watches in admiration and cheers us on.  But he waits for the day he can turn the key.   This is one of those days.





So excuse me if this post is too personal or revealing for you.  But I am so happy I can't hide what He has done! I refuse to stay in this cage of doubt and shame and just say, we're moving to a nicer place.  It's my time to sing.

"On the top of my cage I am sitting     Above the shame so lonely     Your kindness it has lifted me               To see the way that you see              I’m gonna sing out loud             And let my voice be heard            It’s a song of victory           And its ringing in the earth"       Melissa Hesler from the song On the Shores 








2 comments:

  1. This is so great, Allison! We are not our circumstances, we are children of the King.

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  2. Amen Sarah. I hope my next hard circumstances will look different to me. Like a challenge I know I can triumph over, and that he will use to bless me.

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