Apartment Hunt Results

Blah, blah, I haven't posted. Sorry. There. Now we can get down to business.

Just the facts, ma'am:

The home-finding trip to Idaho went amazingly well. God got my disgruntled, worried heart to chill out and enjoy the trip--within just four hours of landing in Boise. Here's a rundown of what happened.

• On the plane to Boise, I happen to mention to Liann that there was one apartment complex I was not able to make an appointment for in Meridian (a suburb of Boise, midway between Boise and Nampa, which is where the office and hangar are). When I called Greenhill (not it's real name ;) the week before, they said they had nothing available, and recommended a few other places to visit. I hadn't brought it up to Liann before the flight--there just hadn't been a reason to talk about the specifics of the names of places where I had made appointments. She was along for the ride to keep me sane.
  
• Liann and I land in Boise at about 1:00 p.m., get the rental car, check in at the hotel (make that an old, cheesy, motel), rest for about 20 minutes, then go to Red Robin for a leisurely lunch.
• Over lunch and three Freckled Lemonades (Boise was in a heat wave), Liann suggests we pick up a newspaper and just check out any individual rentals that might sound worth driving by. I had not made any appointments or plans for Saturday or Sunday. I figured we would take it easy and spend time finding our way around and get me used to reading the Ada and Canyon County street atlas I bought last August. So, why not buy a paper? Sure.
• We cruise around until we find a newspaper machine in front of a Carl's Jr. With the car running and the air conditioner blasting, she peruses one paper and I the other. I circle everything I am finding in my price range, and start to make the first phone call to get an address. As I start to dial, I hang up. I just can't do this--I can't have the same "Hi, my name is Kathie, and I am relocating to the Treasure Valley in about four weeks, and I am interested in your rental listing. May I have the address so I can drive by and see it, and then contact you later if I would like to see inside? I am here until Wednesday...BLAH BLAH BLAH!" conversation 30 times. I have already done this a ton. And what if people aren't nice? And I don't have enough energy to convince them I am trustworthy and will not ruin their house if they give me the address. Uncle, already.
• I remember Moses had to put his staff in the water. God did the whole big story, but he made Moses put his staff in the water at the Red Sea first. Okay, Lord, I'll dial. Here's my staff. Ugh.
• I leave a message at the number. The ad says to call on weekends and evenings, so I figure I lucked out calling on a Saturday afternoon. Turns out I never heard a word from them, but I left the message.
• Immediately after, Liann looks up from her paper and says, "What was the name of the place you said had nothing available?" I told her, "Greenhill." She said, "Well, here's an ad for them: 'Open House, Saturday Only, 10-5, apartments available, call Shirley.' I think we need to call."
• Liann actually called them (unheard of for Liann to use the phone without being forced) and left a message. Two minutes later, the phone rings. It's Shirley. She says to come over, gives me directions, and that she'll be there until 5:00 p.m.
• We arrive at Greenhill at 4:30 p.m. Crusty, older, world-wise Shirley shows us two apartments, and warms up to me and shows me two more. The fourth one is IT.
  
• Upstairs, two-bedroom, one-bath, washer/dryer, fridge, microwave, balcony, faces a little business park and a new high school, only 2 years old and only occupied in the last year for about 3 weeks. It's pristine. I can afford it. AND...it will take my grandma's dining table and hutch. I can't believe it.
• Shirley has shown apartments all day, but tells us she is done, she won't be showing anything else for the rest of the night or on Sunday, and if I come on Monday morning to the office with my credit app and everything checks out, the place is mine. She walks us back to her apartment to fill out the credit app, and as she hands it to me, she starts to write on it and says, "Now, here's your address." Liann whispers to me, "Sluss, it's an address!"
• We head back to the car, and I know it's a God-thing because Liann is so excited she can't shut up (this from a woman who normally takes 48 hours to tell you what she thinks about the burrito she ate for lunch), and I am silent. That's right folks--the Sluss was speechless.

I turned in the paperwork on Monday morning and got a call from Shirley that afternoon while I was at lunch with a friend I made last August, and it was a done deal. Liann and I kept our appointments at the other places that I had arranged, but it was all just a process of confirming that God had taken care of it all right after we got off the plane. It took me about 48 hours to realize that God had not only answered many specific prayers, but had done something that amazed me even more. As we cruised some condo locations in Nampa, I suddenly pulled the car over and started to cry. I had been dreading the trip. It had been prefaced with worry over a million "what ifs" and panic over the idea of making tons of decisions and what if I got one wrong? I had made myself nauseated over it.

It suddenly dawned on me that God had taken care of everything so well that I was actually having a good time. I was enjoying just driving and exploring with Liann. I was overwhelmed at how he had taken care of my heart.