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The following portion is from a Nonfiction piece:
I walked through the house one last time. I knew I had to pull myself together quickly. I paused, looking in the girls’ bedrooms, painted exactly how they had wanted. I walked through the living room smiling, remembering when my friend had spent days painting those walls with me. The front door beckoned me to open it one last time. As my hand grasped the knob, all of a sudden, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t open that door and walk to the truck piled high with our belongings. My head rested on the frame as tears filled my eyes.
How did we get to this place?
Oh, I remembered all the mistakes we had made, but when we finally began to wake up, we immediately turned to God.
We had thought he would come through.
Our house was going into foreclosure, we were moving into a rental house, and God didn’t seem to care. There was no time to rehash this again; Chad and the girls were waiting. They needed me to put on a smile. It could have been worse. As I walked down those steps, I didn’t know it was about to get much worse.
Over the course of two years, like so many families, we faced foreclosure, job loss, the anxiety of no health insurance, and having to learn to adapt to a different income bracket. Somehow, adapting to a higher one had never been an issue.
Please let us know if you are willing to read on by leaving a thoughtful comment for this courageous contributing author. At the close of next Wednesday's post you will find a reveal of this weeks contributor.