“I can’t do it, Matt.” I felt like a selfish jerk. Matt hates making the phone calls as much as I do. “I think it’s a good idea, but if you want it to happen I need you to take the reins.”
I physically can’t make the phone calls this week; I’ll be at training in DC. But I probably could fit it in somewhere. My mind raced as we sat in the car. Partially I was relieved to finally say it. The day before, I’d just broken down crying about all the pressures and decisions of buying a house.
But partially I was guilty and scared. If I was going to let go, I had to let go completely.
“Say whatever you want. I trust you.”
So Matt called the seller and the seller’s two sons before we got out of the car. And he did an amazing job. Why the heck didn’t I ask him to help sooner? This is amazing.
At the hotel room in DC, Matt texted that he was meeting with the seller.
Oh gosh. What’s he going to say when I’m not there? He’ll probably offer to pay double. No. I have to trust him. So I told Matt how thankful I was that he was getting involved. I told him how much I hated bargaining situations where everyone feels cheated, and I told him how much of a weight it took off me that he was handling the situation.
That week while I was away, Matt sent emails, made phone calls, and problem solved alternate scenarios. When he sent me a text, I could stop, calm my fears, and thank him for his help before asking about my concerns.
Suddenly the weight of making all the phone calls, doing all the paperwork, and being the one voicing our final decisions was gone. Suddenly I understood what my dad meant when he told me to stop being hyper-responsible and to let Matt take responsibility.
God is brilliant. He set this up perfectly. He made the sale almost fall through right when I was out of town and emotionally bottomed out. I really only had one choice.
I let go, and I realized I was a control freak. My attempts at being respectful and trying to do what Matt wanted were polluted by my fears. I let go wondering if I was being irresponsible and selfish, and God created an opportunity for Matt to feel more respected than he has our entire marriage.
“Thank you, God. Thank you for sending me to DC, so I’d be forced to make this decision. I never would have seen this otherwise.”
My dad had given me advice. Matt had said I was being a control freak. But I couldn’t see it. I had no idea how to be a good, respectful wife. I had prayed and begged God to help me find my way. I tried as hard as I could, but it wasn’t working.
And that’s the cool thing about God. He leads me when I’m blind.