Although I was working and the trials were behind me...we were behind by 5+ months on the mortgage and knew we were going to lose the house very soon. I remember crying and offering it up to God..."take it God--if you want it--it's yours."
I don't know exactly what that moment did in my heart but I know I wasn't clawing to hold onto it. I wanted whatever God wanted...and by all accounts we were going to be homeless in short order. If he wanted something different for us then I wanted to be moving in the same direction--in tune with his plans.
We put the house up for sale to sell it before it foreclosed.
Each day we would have realtors calling and my wife would load the kids and dog in the car after school and drive around while it was shown...sometimes over and over multiple times daily...the cleaning and not being able to live in it fully--and knowing it was no longer going to be ours. Some showings would be so teasing-lasting for hours as each light switch, electrical outlet was tested--and then the jacuzzi tub turned on only to spew water around and flood our bathroom, but after all of that 4 hours later--we had no offer.
I can't over emphasize the difficulty that period was in our lives...for me I had to survive the two jobs and then have my wits about me for my wife's fears and concerns. It was physically draining but I can't overstate the mental aspect of dealing with life's consequences and curves while physically drained. I felt like my body had been beat up and beat up some more--and then squeezed through a wringer to make certain no hidden pockets of energy had survived.
For Michelle, it meant so much more--her home was ripped out of her hands and she had no say in any of it. She hadn't asked for any of this. It meant not only swallowing her pride but having it shredded daily. There was losing health care and those fears of providing care for her children. There was losing our beautiful SUV and having to be appreciative of the 20 yr old loaner car we were provided by loving friends with no air conditioning. What could we say-but thank you?! God was showing me how to be thankful in all things. I wasn't the model cooperative student but I did understand the lessons provided and hoped to understand more of his plans...see a bigger picture in all of this.
The letters from the mortgage company continued to mount and they were so threatening. The continued barrage of phone calls which always began with "this is an attempt to collect a debt..."
I had filled out home assistance forms from the government more than four times with no success or replies. Each day multiple threatening letters yet the only payment they would accept was the full 6 months of payments combined plus fees, penalties and interest...no problem!
When you call and you are on your last thread of sanity you can hear the compassion on the other end...just kidding, life is just what it is for those people collecting, there is no room for compassion to be expressed. It's just business.
After months of the yo-yo realty games we apparently had a buyer. Then there was the realization that this was a low ball offer and they were offering barely over what we owed on our mortgage...they also had a list of demands: new roof, radon system and removal and many other things. I put down the offer and cried...it was so cruel as the house was worth so much more. The value had dropped over 100,000 in just 8 months. I was over a barrel and they knew it. My hope was trampled flat and left dead with no heartbeat.
I struggled to chew some peanut butter crackers sitting on the front steps and pondered the deep hurt this was causing. I knew I had to eat to keep up my strength, but I didn't want to eat anything. I thought this was the bottom --Then the bottom dropped out as I received a phone call from the place we wanted to rent from (if we sold) and we failed our credit check with them. Now if we signed the low ball offer...they would want us out in just 7 days and pay for a list of items on their wish list and we would be homeless with no where to go. I didn't question or blame God--but I sure wasn't feeling solid about him either--and I wanted to help him with his plans to help me feel better and I thrashed about to regain some semblance of control of my life.
With my heart heavy with fear and afraid of the hopelessness and despair of a mother trying to protect her children...I trudged out to the mailbox to get what I figured to be the final foreclosure letter. The foreclosure was scheduled for 48 hrs. from then. The delivery of doom was complete as the mailman pulled away not realizing the terrible delivery of news he was carrying.
I read the first letter...same story--less than 2 days and it would be sold out from under us and we would be homeless. I didn't even know exactly where our courthouse was--but on those steps my home would be sold in less than two days.
The second letter was something of a mystery-from a government agency for assistance...it looked like a form letter. It wasn't. It was a letter of hope. It was the golden ticket in Willy Wonka and the chocolate factory---We received one of those Obama assistance packages and it saved us less than two days from complete loss. I remember reading it with Michelle and thinking God can truly do anything he wants at this point. We looked at the letter together in disbelief--reading it over again..I fell to my knees with the tears streaming down.
I had given it back to him and he threw me a boomerang. He wanted us to stay there--at least for now, and the payment rate provided was manageable for the next 5 months...simply amazing.
I was told later that most people that had applied were rejected because they didn't have a second job--so it was reasoned they were not doing everything they could do. Once again...God's providence through the second job-physically draining but a piece of his providence.
I called the realtor and turned down the offer...he reminded me "Mr. Taylor this is no time for pride--you need to act now--the impending foreclosure is smack in your life's plans"...I told him not to worry, God had a different plan.
