So, there's more drama than anticipated on the housing front. Apparently the realtor (who is the son of the owner) dragged his feet in getting his parents to sign the offer that they had accepted long enough to get another offer in. Vance doesn't want me to go on a tirade about him--and I am trying not to judge him too much as well--but it seems that he has been unjust (and at minimum, very unprofessional).
At any rate, we have now offered them what the other prospective buyers have, and hopefully (!) the realtor will let his parents take it from here. It goes without saying that it's been disappointing and maddening to be back in the middle on what we thought (and what should have been) a done deal.
It has, however, reminded me to hold all this with an open hand. This house, if it is to be ours, will be so because God allows it. If not, because he has not. It's been a good reminder, too, that everything that we have is his, and he has the right to do with it as he chooses. We know that he only works good for his own, but it's easy to assume that it's all ours. Health? Mine. Money? Mine. Children? Mine. Career? Mine. But no, we just steward it. And if he sends us another way than we'd planned, it's his anyway.
Right now, I believe that, and I feel very at peace with this particular house. But you can pray for us that we would continue to have that trust in God, despite our roller coaster of emotions.