About a week ago I wrote this piece saying it would be my last for a while. We were to move to South Carolina this past week. But nooooooooooooo. A couple of days before our last Monday closing on our house here—we got a call saying the buyer’s loan did not go through. Huh? For two days my wife and I both staggered around in deep depression. But you can’t let that black dog called deepression bite you. It could be venomous. Anyway—even after we had taken a load of peculiar treasures to South Carolina, deposited much, too much in our daughter’s house and all our great stuff was packed up—why I couldn’t even find the Tabasco sauce. We began to dig out of our self-pity hole. We had a list. We had now to contact all the people we had called to undo all our cancellations—which was as lot. Let’s see we re-called:
- The gas company
- The Alabama power
- Waste Management
- The recycle outfit
- Water works
- New York Times
- Local Paper
- AT&T which has our internet and phone service
- Several magazine subscription folk
- The Real estate agent in Clemson who had scheduled our closing there for last week
- Asked for a twenty-day extension on our new house
- Called our movers and suspended the move indefinitely
- Called the local Cable company
- Called the Cable Company in South Carolina
Finally—everything got re-cancelled except AT&T. Beware! Three days ago I had no Internet service and no landline. So—I began that long circuitous journey of trying desperately to get my phone and Internet service re-connected (temporarily.) They finally did it. Well, the buyer’s new mortgage company tells me the loan will go through about a week from tomorrow and that we have nothing to fear. It’s been a hard day’s night to put it mildly.
While I was still groveling in self-pity a good friend gave me these words from Gordon Cosby that he had used once in a sermon. Wise words from a wise man.
“If you feel you can’t tolerate the mess, the only advice I can give you is this: choose what for you is a better mess. If you can find it. But wherever you do, you go to the next mess. You may take a couple of years to find out how messy it is, but you will find it to be a mess. God has tolerated many messes for many eons.”
If we you a praying person—or merely superstitious—pray for us next Monday—or I should say the buyer-to-be of our house. If not pray—burn a candle (maybe at both ends simultaneously.) Dust off your rosary, say some strange mantra—demand of whatever god(s) you believe in to please, please let the Lovette’s house sell.
When I called our mover—I asked her, “Has this ever happened before? Someone cancelled at the last minute?” She said, “Not much until the last few months and now it is happening all the time.” Real estate folk tell me the mortgage companies are turning down a lot of people who are financially qualified. Hmmm. Maybe if this closing does not work out and we have a little more time—maybe I will take up a placard and head for Wall Street. Anybody out there want to join me?
(Would you please stand at this time, join hands with with your friends and neighbors and sing maybe quietly: "Look for the Silver Lining!")