It is May. I have officially been living with a decent amount of my stuff in boxes for about a month now and while I'm pretty sure I know I haven't lost anything, it is still a mystery as to where some things have gone. For instance, the other day Ray was making dinner and asked me where the toaster was. I looked in 2 boxes labeled "kitchen"....still no toaster. Fortunately he figured out how to toast without one since I didn't find the 3rd box labeled "kitchen" until much later (it was in my bedroom closet). Such is my life at the moment. Fortunately most of my everyday necessity items have yet to be packed.
In case you're wondering why I still have things in boxes, it is because I thought I was moving to an apartment in Nyack last month. After a very long and drawn out process I was finally given the go-ahead by the landlady to move in. The Wednesday before Easter I gave her a check and she gave me the key. I started moving boxes. My mom and Ray came to help me move. While we were there, Ray had a question about the lock on the front door (previously he hadn't seen the apartment). He asked the landlady about it. Everything seemed fine until I got a phone call later on in the day from the landlady saying that if I wasn't completely happy with the apartment she'd be more than happy to return my check to me. I told her that while I was happy with the apartment that I would think about it and get back to her the next day.
She didn't even give me 24 hours before she called and said that she had been thinking and had come to the conclusion that the arrangement wouldn't work out. She asked if I could have my stuff out by Friday. I told her I was going away and that I'd have everything out by Monday. My mom didn't really like my stuff staying there all weekend, so she came up on Friday and moved everything for me. I went by on Monday to get my check and return the key. When I asked her why she had changed her mind she responded that Ray asking her a question was not direct communication from me to her (she likes to have direct communication with her tenants - I guess standing right there while he asked her wasn't enough) and he also had looked at the front door without her permission.
Ah ha...ok...I'm choosing to look at this as a blessing in disguise since this woman was obviously very controlling and would have given me a lot of grief had I actually become her tenant for longer than 12 hours. I'm thankful that she made her decision before I started moving my furniture and cats in as that would have been far more difficult. I'm also extremely thankful that I still have my old apartment to live in for now.
Where does this leave me today? Still looking. In the meantime there has been an offer on the house and an inspector came last Friday. There were only minor issues, so now I wait to see what happens. I've been told that I'll have at least 2 months before I absolutely need to get out. From what I've heard, the people making the offer want my apartment torn out and converted back into a garage again. My landlords don't have a place to move to either, so this should be interesting. They are looking to move into an apartment that will accept 2 dogs.
In the meantime I am trusting that God has the perfect place lined up for me. It has been far from easy though. I fight a daily battle of trying not to get too discouraged. This weekend was particularly rough because I spent a great deal of my time in bed with a migraine. However, I recently read in a devotional that when God tells you to wait you should:
(1) shift your perspective from "why me" to "what now?",
(2) count your blessings
(3) recall the past
(4) reach out
(5) internalize scripture.
I read this verse today "For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, 'Do not fear; I will help you.'" Isaiah 41:13
