The Half Halt House

It's always hard to know where to start when you get really behind on something, especially when that something is documenting your life.  Those who know me best, know that keeping my blog isn't just me keeping a record of our family (which it definitely is), but more than that, it's my preferred way of processing my life, our family, my thoughts.  That's why things here are sometimes messy, but what do they always say? "You gotta wade through the dramatic, rainy whining if you want to enjoy the rainbows of good stuff." Something like that anyway.

When I've gotten in a hole before, I ended up just starting from where we were and moving forward.  But I haven't written in so long, there are a few things that must be said, for our present tense to make any sense.

So, you may remember that a long time ago, last fall, I posted about this horse property I'd been eyeing:

 Here

And then the really long follow-up
here

Long story short, we loved this house, we tried for nearly a week to make an offer but just couldn't feel good about doing so, no matter how hard we tried. (And yes, there was another house we did make an offer on, but did not get.)

Not long after nothing worked out, I saw our agent at Cotsco and she informed me that the original house was under contract.  Over the course of the next few months, both Dan and I kind of mourned over that property.  It still had all the same drawbacks, but they didn't stop us from thinking about it from time to time, wondering what if....

Fast forward to this past Spring, when our agent emailed us to let us know that the contract she told me about had fallen apart and the house was going to be re-listed.  She was giving us a heads up and an invite to see it again before it hit the market.  But we had already thought and prayed and fasted about that house, and we just couldn't make it right 3 months previously so why would it be right now?  So we told her thank you, but no, we were not interested.

And then we went on our merry way, our minds frequently revisiting that house, clearly and surprisingly, with interest.  In fact, we kind of couldn't get it out of our heads.  We started to think that maybe the previous issue wasn't the house, maybe it was the timing?  Maybe now was the right time?  By the time we decided that we were interested, it was days away from hitting the market and we could no longer get in to see it early.  And the price had gone up about 20k.  And our showing was one of like, 100.  We actually had to walk through the house the same time as three other showings.  Clearly, if we were going to go for this, it wasn't going to be like last fall when it had sat for months. This was going to be competitive and it was a little discouraging.  But still, we walked through it that last time, and it was like a gate we'd been standing behind for months, just swung right open.  We felt like we absolutely should make an offer.  It was the right thing to do and we needed to do it.

Our offer was one of three. We went 15k over asking but the highest bidder went 35k over.  And we didn't get it.

It was a weird two weeks. We were definitely disappointed.   And a little confused.  It had felt so right.  It was what we really wanted, and had wanted for quite a long time.  We had felt so sure, even compelled to make an offer. And in our world, those feelings of surety, of being compelled, those aren't just us, those are God's way of directing our life.  Those feelings are the Holy Ghost leading our feet.  But after all that, and it didn't work out?  What was up with that?

And then it happened.  I was in the car alone.  Probably ruminating about why in the heck this hadn't worked out after all that had led up to it and how badly I had wanted it.  I can't remember if I was crying then, but I was definitely crying by the end.  There in the car, the Spirit taught me something.  It was more clear and organized than my overwhelmed, colluded brain could have ever mustered on its own.  The Spirit took some previous experiences from my life and lined them up for me in a perfect row.  And then one by one, he picked them up and walked me through each one.

First, as a senior in high school in New Hampshire, all I really wanted was to go to BYU.  I had spent the past 4 years of school, alone in my Mormonism.  I had a few great friends at church, but my daily life, even despite having friends at school, was lonely.  I longed to be understood and supported in my beliefs.  I cried to God often about this wish.  I knew it would be a stretch for me. My ACT was decent, but my grades, while also decent, had taken a back seat to basketball.  I dug in deep my junior and senior years and improved them a lot. BYU's admission standards had gotten so high though, I knew I was not a shoe-in.  But God had heard my prayers, my cries, I knew He had, and this was a very righteous desire.

You cannot imagine the teenager tantrum I had when I opened that rejection letter.  It was as if it had come directly from God himself.  I felt rejected by God.  Not un-seen, for I knew God saw me. I think that's why it hurt so bad.  I knew He saw me there, sad and struggling, and yet He was very deliberately choosing not to help me.  He did not care.

Time passed.  I had not applied anywhere else because I did not want to go anywhere else.  I found that Utah Valley State College had open admissions.  I decided I had no other choice but to go there, and then try to transfer to BYU.

At the same time, my best friend at school, Stephanie, also found herself without a college to attend. I told her about UVSC and my plans.  And as crazy as it was for that life-long NH girl to leave, she came to Utah as well and we went to UVSC together.

We had to find an apartment because UVSC did not offer student housing.  I had planned to live on BYU campus, but that obviously wasn't going to work out now.  We found spots at Alta Apartments in Provo.  Stephanie met many new people, including the missionaries, and got baptized.  She later returned to NH, met her Mormon husband, got married in the temple, and now has four beautiful boys.

As I walked through that experience, to what I thought was the end, it was not quite.  The spirit went on to show me Dan's face. My most wonderful, bestest thing, my husband, my Danny.  I met him because I lived exactly where I did, in the same Alta Apartment complex.

And without a pause, my mind went directly to the next scene. We'd been married about 7-8 years, we lived in Katy, TX.  My best friend was Val and her husband, Jordan, also worked in HR at the same company as Dan.  In fact they were only two years apart in the same Master's program at Texas A&M.  A job opportunity came up in Louisiana for Exxon.  Jordan ended up taking that job and they moved, to my great disappointment.  They settled in there so nicely, and life seemed to be just swell for them (though don't things always look swell on the other side of the fence?)  Meanwhile, we stayed in Houston, Dan's company spilled millions of gallons of oil into the Gulf of Mexico, I was missing my best friend, Ava was harder than ever, and things were just not that swell.  I think it's human nature (however counterproductive) to look at someone else's happiness or success and to wonder why that can't be you.  Most of the time it's like comparing apples to oranges, though.  Lives and circumstances are so different, it's just not realistic.

In this case though, it was a pretty straight up comparison.  Apples to apples.  That job could have just as easily taken Dan to Louisiana.  We could have been doing swell.  And not that I wasn't happy for my friends, I absolutely was.  I just wondered why it wasn't us. What was keeping God's hand from reaching down and scooting us somewhere great?

It's not to say that we were not supremely blessed during this time.  In fact, while I was struggling through these years, it was a time of some very significant spiritual experiences. And in the absence of my friend, my heart was open and lucky enough to build another life-long friendship with my dear, Jill. But again, while these experiences reaffirmed that I knew God saw us, and I knew we were known to Him, it still begged the question, why not us?

A little over a year later, Dan was sitting on the couch late one night and the name of an oil company he hadn't heard or thought about since graduate school came to his mind.  He went straight to the computer and looked it up.  They had a job opening that matched his skills perfectly. He applied.  They called the next morning.  He flew to Dallas for an interview, signed an offer, and was working there all in a matter of weeks.

That job took us to Dallas.  The pay was great and the benefits were incredible.  And we were now living less than 15 minutes from my parents.

We look back at those 3.5 years as The Golden Years.  I wouldn't trade them for anything.  Not even a great job in Louisiana.

 Finally, as the pinnacle, my mind was brought to Aaron, my brother.  I didn't actually mentally rehash anything. I just simply thought how desperately we and hundreds of our friends and family around the world joined together in earnest pleading, fasting, and praying for the preservation of his life.  We had faith, we had hope, we had desire, but it was not to be. I knew He saw us, but would not grant our sincerest desire. I thought about what utter devastation followed. The grief was unbearable.  I then thought of how expansive the effect of that event reached, how I very literally cannot explain in words what it has done in my life.  How it brought me to the depths of what I thought I could feel or cope with, yet it has carried me to the height of human joy and taught me lessons that are now so unspeakably priceless. From where I stand now, with the ground so solid beneath my feet and my heart so sure in what I know, I would never wish it differently.

And that was it.  With the Holy Ghost as my tour guide, it wasn't a vacation, but it was a tutorial. And there were a few lessons.

We may have ideas about what we want, we may even be so bold as to think that we know what is best or what we need.

I sat in the car so disappointed, confused even, about why we would feel compelled to go after that house and then not get it.  And I was just sad.  If my all-knowing, all-loving God can move mountains and heal hearts and work miracles, which I absolutely know He can, why could He not follow through with that prompting to buy the house? I know it was just a house, but why couldn't He have just let us have that dang house?!

Why could I just not get into BYU?
Why could we just not have that awesome job?
Why could Aaron just  not live?

And the answer to them all was the same.  More.  God had more in store.  I thought I knew best. I thought I knew what I wanted, even what I needed.  But God knew I needed more.  And He had given it to me.  Time and time again. He took my measly little hopes and desires, and instead handed me the realizations of dreams so beautiful, I'd never even had mind to imagine them. Of course, in the interim I was hurt and disappointed, and unfortunately also doubtful.  But if I was to learn one thing from this car tutorial, it was that God was going to come through. It might take a little time, but He always had before.

Then, my tears stopped. I still felt sad, but I felt a new resolve to continue in faith knowing that sooner or later, I would see the wisdom in not getting the house. There was something wonderful ahead, I just knew it, and doubts and questions were habits of the past that I would not be repeating.

So imagine my surprise when I saw the realtor's name on my phone a few days later.  And imagine my even greater surprise when I answered and she told me that if we wanted it, the house was ours.

It actually didn't turn out to be quite that simple, but relatively speaking the process went smoothly and by the middle of June, the house was ours.  And I don't think we've ever been so busy, strung out, and tired, but we are so, so happy to be here.  It feels right.

Now, don't think I haven't thought about the lesson I learned in the car that day and how even though I thought I had God all figured out, this experience didn't follow that previous pattern of His at all.  The one that went--didn't get what I want, get sad, time passes, get something even better. No, this was my first-- didn't get what I want, get sad, time passes, actually get what I want.

What in the world was He trying to teach me?

And if you are still here reading at this point, bless your heart, I will tell you.

Ava's been horseback riding for a few years now.  And because she really has the best teacher in the world, I've been able to ride with her a couple of times a month (until this summer when life really exploded).  It has been so fun for me as I get to practice skills new and old. There is a particular skill called a half halt.  The name might imply that you stop or halt your horse, or even just slow him down.  But what it really is, is a way to re-balance the horse, to slow the front end without slowing the back.  Sometimes, when you're riding, your horse can get so strung out lengthwise, that you need a half halt to get him collected and get the right muscles engaged. This also allows the horse to be ready for a change of gait, a turn, an upcoming obstacle, like a jump, that they don't know is coming.

Practicing this skill for me could not have been better timed.  I copied and pasted the following from the internet, just so you don't think I'm making this up.  

"Half-halts improve your horse's concentration, increase fluidity of its movements, and build a stronger connection between you and your horse.This shift in balance "wakes" the horse and makes him more responsive to signals from you."


Half halts work! That's why riders use them on their horses. 

And apparently they work on people too. At least it worked on me because I like to think our experience with the house and my experience in the car was God's version a half halt. 

 Maybe God wasn't holding out on the house because something different was coming down the line.  I believe that God was holding out on the house because he recognized the opportunity to collect and re-balance me.  He could see me running faster, and longer, losing my ability to be agile and react well. He recognized my efforts and hopes, but He saw it as the perfect time to wake me up, for helping me engage the right muscles. So He sat me down in my car, took me on a tour of His beautiful, previous handiwork. All in hopes of improving my concentration on the things that matter, lending me fluidity, increasing my responsiveness, and most of all, strengthening the connection between us.  

And in that case, I guess if you think about it, His pattern does remain.  We got the house, but I also got more. I got the reassurance of God's steady hand in my life, I got another brick to add to my faith in Him and His timing, I got a reminder of the trust I can have in Him and Him in me. I got one step closer to the person I want to become; the steady, faithful, ever hopeful woman of my dreams. I got collected and balanced, re-centered on Him.  He could have just handed us the house, and that would have been nice.  But He had more in mind. God is in charge, no matter the situation, no matter the outcome, whether we get exactly what we want or our dreams are dashed and our hearts are left broken for a time. When we submit to Him, He gives us more or He makes us more, always.