Homeschoolers have a thing about homesteading. Maybe it is because we are home to enjoy all that space, maybe it’s because we are prone to being a little alternative (there’s a surprise, eh?) or perhaps we really do have that bunker mentality we are sometimes accused of.

Whichever the case, I have long been one of those who hanker after land. My husband is challenged to understand why I drool over 200 acre properties in the middle of nowhere. “What would you do with it all?” he asks, bemused.

Well..? Roll on it, lie on it, throw my arms out and shout, “It’s mine, mine mine!”

Yes, I am that mature.

A recent conversation with two friends made me think again. Friend A asked me if I was still looking for a larger property? ” Yes,” I replied, “but not holding out too much hope.”

I don’t want to ask my husband to go into enormous debt to satisfy my land hunger, neither do I want to live in a rundown old shack (my sense of adventure is waning as I approach my dotage).

“Oh,” she exclaims, “You need to pray the prayer of Jabez”. This followed by an explanation of how specifically I should be praying for God to give me more.

Friend B quietly turned to me and said, “I am so glad to have a house.” She elaborated. Living in Germany, the best she could hope for was to rent a tiny apartment. When they arrived in Australia and settled in Sydney, it was a stretch to rent a three bedroom unit.

At just a few years older than me, this dear woman had purchased her first house, a small, modest house by most standards, but it has a yard, and it is hers (and her husbands!), somewhere her five children can live and grow.

In the same gentle way she shared with me that although there were aspects of the home that were far from perfect, it didn’t really matter. After all, as a Christian, this was not her real home. It was just for a little while.

How humbled I was to listen to this voice of Godly wisdom. While there are times I think life without a verandah is a burden indeed, and I cringe when we have guests and they have to stand three deep in our tiny lounge room, my house is by no means unlivable. In fact some parts of it are quite lovely.

While I could follow the seemingly Christian advice of friend A to pray for bigger and better, I think the still, small voice was in the gentle reminder to be grateful for what I have now.

What a blessing that friend was to me.

Advertisements