The Constant Battle

We found an apartment. An amazing apartment, no less. Yes, it's a sixth-floor walkup; but I think that might be the only negative. It's at 100th and Lexington, about twenty blocks from where Ellen lives and where she and Steve will be living after they get married in April. It's about four blocks from the subway (and a Starbucks). It has two decent-sized bedrooms (one is small, but it's workable) and a kitchen that actually has a little bit of counter. The coolest feature is the brick wall between the kitchen and living room-- it has a large cutout that makes the whole apartment feel spacious. Hardwood floors, nice bathroom, granite countertops, sunny and bright atmosphere. Even better, it's actually in our pricerange; and there's not even a broker's fee. And the couple that's moving out offered to leave their dining room table (which we would have needed to buy) and the air-conditioner units (which would be a necessity on that sixth floor during the summer).

Seriously, it's perfect.

And another couple wants it, too.

If God wants you to have this apartment, you will get it-- I have told myself repeatedly.
But what if he doesn't want me to have it?-- the cynical, in-fear-of-a-cosmic-killjoy side of me answers back.
Then he has something better.

And that's the constant battle. To believe that God has good things in store for me. To believe that he is able to do exceedingly and abundantly above all I could ask or imagine. To believe that he delights to give me good gifts. To believe that he is working all things together for my good, because I am called according to his purpose.