Even Though it is a few days before Christmas, “the most wonderful time of the year”, I am transported to another place and time which is more wonderful to me than words can say.
I’m in my sunroom, listening to my “ocean waves” CD and imagining I’m walking along the beach at my parents’ cottage. The one my grandfather built.
I’ve been at this cottage every summer of my whole life. The sun is bright, the sky is clear and blue, the breeze feels soft on my skin, and the waves are breaking gently on the beach. To me this is a piece of heaven on earth.
I have a decision to make. My mother had inherited the cottage many years ago, and now she wants to sell it. The year is 2014, and I have been widowed for 12 years. My sons are 17, 15 and 12. Yes, you read that right. I was 7 months pregnant with my third son when my husband died suddenly in a car accident. It has been one long haul, and now the prospect of never being able to be at the cottage again fills me with sadness and devastation.
I’m a widow. I have one income. Well, ¾ of an income anyway. I started a bookkeeping business a few years ago so I can work from home and be available for my sons and still earn an income. This means I don’t take holidays. Ever. It means I can come to the cottage for a few long weekends every summer, to enjoy my piece of heaven and know that life is good, even though it most certainly has its challenges.
How is a widow with ¾ of an income and 3 kids supposed to buy a cottage? That has got to be the craziest idea ever, I think to myself. As I walk along the beach, trying to imagine a life without being able to come here, I am overcome with emotion and I say to God, “God, if there is any way, I would love to have this cottage.” I continue to walk on the beach, always scanning the sand for stones. Today the stone I find is not colourful. However, it is meaningful. It is shaped like a heart. I pick up the heart-shaped stone and hold it in my hand, hoping against hope that I can come back here again next summer, and the summer after that, and every summer for the rest of my life. I walk back to the cottage and put the stone in my bag with the intention of taking it home and leaving it on my dresser so I can see it every day, and remember this beautiful place.
Once back at home, later that week I receive an email from a friend. She says I have been on her mind, and that if I have a financial decision to make, I should just go for it. She says the boys are getting older and my situation will change. She has no idea about the decision I need to make.
A few days later, another friend, who knows about the decision I need to make, drives from her house an hour away and shows up at my house. She says the cottage IS me and I should just borrow the money. She says that if I can’t make a go of it, I can sell the cottage myself. So why not just go for it?
So I did! I borrowed the money and purchased my family cottage, the one my grandfather built, the one I have been to every summer of my whole life, the one that feels like a piece of heaven to me, and to my sons.
It all worked out. God says in Isaiah 43:19 that he makes a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. He can make a way when there is no way. He also left me a note on the beach, sent an email, and a hug to tell me that there was indeed a way. And I am forever grateful.
