From the camper dinette where I am huddled writing, the pitter -patter of January rain is tapping on the tiny windows. Another sound comes now, a distinct, rhythmic dripping. My thoughts fragment as I wonder if there might be a leak. It’s a constant camper thing, I’m learning.

The highway traffic is whirring by. So many people. So many busy lives with places to go. And here I sit just…waiting. My brick house is no more than twenty feet away from the twenty-two-foot RV I’m now occupying. It is empty.  Idle.  Awaiting the Appraiser and the finalization of a change in ownership.

For months on end the words that Jesus spoke over two thousand years ago to the rich young ruler have returned again and again to my mind.

“Sell that which ye have, and give to charity, and then come, follow Me.”

And as often as I responded, “Lord, what does it mean? Follow You how? I do not know the way.” The response I repeatedly have heard were always the words of Christ, “I am the way.”

Believing myself to be hearing a call of God to follow Christ in some truly physical way in this, I began to timidly stumble forward in faith. I have been uncertain how to work out the details but so far, all I have had to do is respond obediently to what God places in front of me. He has met me every step of the way.

With a verbal offer and a handshake with the local owner of our gas station to go on for the purchase of my home, I skipped listing it with a realtor and moved forward with quitting my job at the end of 2024. It was a burning of the ships if you will and a leap of faith into what I’m calling a sabbath year. A year dedicated unto the Lord. The money from the sale of my home I assume is to be my provision for upcoming expenses.

Then, a friend and her husband offered their property as a place for me to bring the camper to and stay for “as long as the Lord would have you to.” Then came another offer, and another offer. Some from fellow believers that I don’t really even know. A sign and testament that the one who does the will of God truly receives in this life the blessings of being a member of the huge family of God.

Today though, I’m sitting. And I’m waiting. Waiting for the Appraiser to call. Waiting for people to be able to meet to take the household goods they wanted. Waiting for the mechanic to get my truck worked on and road worthy. Waiting to not be stuck by the highway in a tiny town where everybody knows my business and has something to say about it. Waiting on the Lord for my sustenance and my deliverance, for Him to bear me away on Eagle’s wings to my place of rest and training for this year.

And while I wait today, I write.

I write to share the Lord’s doings in my life. To walk back through all the little miracles. All His faithfulness when I am obedient. All I have and am learning about His word and His character. His goodness.

Maybe that is what this delay is for. Perhaps according to the Lord, it is not a delay, it is a gift from His hand. A gift of time to recall the journey thus far; and a gift of time spent hiding in the Lord, to be strengthened by His Holy Spirit in my faith as I walk back through His promises and all His provision. And I pray, these posts will be a gift to you as well.