Yesterday a friend and I spotted a velvety chair outside some condos, available to take. We hauled it off to Baxter, my car, and like that, my imaginary living room gained its first furniture piece. I dream of the day different guests might sit there—strangers turning family, little kids with little toes reading little books, mamas who need a minute, siblings visiting on vacation, grinning neighbors and grouchy ones, too.
A place to make my own seems far off and financially impossible. Before the chair-sighting, I'd taken a chance in a meeting and in a conversation, and the answer was yet again not right now. I returned to my temporary home a bit sad and disappointed but also comforted. I'd prayed a lot, asking God to guide this potential housing opportunity. You never know what to expect when your faith is bolstered and you start to ask big asks. This time, I received a no, a wait, and a chair from the dumpster.
One step closer than before.