This has a special meaning for me right now. After Christmas, perhaps because I was just recovering from Covid, I started to feel that I should prepare to move house, to downsize to a flat that would be future-proof, or as much so as any place can be. This came unexpectedly. I'd often thought that 'one day' I'd do this, but then lately I'd been thinking that flats were not a good investment and I'd be better staying put in this house (where I've been for nearly 25 very happy years) and making sure I was fit enough to manage it. The sense strongly came that I should start to declutter, to get rid of all the things I've accumulated that I really didn't need - and once I started it was surprisingly easy. The hardest bit isn't deciding what should go but, once decided, getting it out of the house to the charity shop or the tip or wherever. I've more or less completed that stage now. I've been praying to be guided to the right place at the right time, and sensing and trying to be obedient to the promptings - viewing a couple of flats when they came up, putting my name on the waiting list for a complex I like, getting the details of my house logged with an estate agent ready to 'go' when I wanted to sell. Various avenues for various reasons proved to be not the right direction. Then a couple of weeks ago I was contacted by the site manager via the waiting list to say a flat had come up there. I viewed it, it feels right, I've made an offer. I've put my house up for sale, I've had viewings and offers this week.... but until my offer on the flat is confirmed I can't do anything - and I've not yet heard the results of the most recent viewings either. I'm champing at the bit but I can't do a thing to progress it; it's all in the hands of others right now... and firmly in God's hands, I believe. I've really sought to be patient, obedient and discerning. I'm sure God is saying: 'I've heard your prayers, now trust me.' I'm really trying to.
