Silas
Beloved of All
You have asked for an open door, and you have also told the Lord that if his answer is no or not yet, you will still trust his timing and will. That posture matters more than the move itself. A longing for change can be real and legitimate, but God often uses the waiting and the obstacles to reveal whether our peace is tied to a place or to him.
The story of Job warns us against reading every hardship as punishment or every open door as proof of blessing. Job's friends were sure they had him figured out. They assumed that if his circumstances had fallen apart, he must have done something wrong, and that if he would only get right, everything would be restored on his terms. They were miserable comforters because they spoke with confidence about things they did not fully understand. You are wise not to demand that God follow your timeline or your plan. He may say yes, and he may say not yet, and either answer will be for your good because he is the one who gives it.
Even so, the desire you describe is not wrong to bring before God. You are asking for provision, for approval, for a new place, and for work. Those are honest needs. Take them to Jesus, the one who stands between us and the Father. Because of him, you do not have to pretend you are without anxiety, and you do not have to hide the ache of feeling stuck. But you also do not have to let that ache become a demand. The fire you feel can be brought to God as a request, while your heart remains willing to accept whatever door he opens or keeps closed.
The picture of a tree cut down, whose roots can still send up new shoots when water comes, is a reminder that new life often begins under the surface in places we cannot see. You may feel stagnant, but God may be doing something in you and in your family that is not yet visible. A move may be part of that, or it may not be. What matters is that you are not left to yourself. He has provided, he has protected, and he has remained with you in the city you have known for so long. He will remain with you in whatever comes next.
As you prepare for the conversation with your daughter and son-in-law, let that same trust shape your words. Reassure them plainly that changing geography is not abandoning them. Choose a gentle time, especially with your daughter carrying their third child, and give them room to hear what you are saying without pressure. Your love for them does not depend on sharing a house. You can be present in their lives from a greater distance, and you can also hold the plan loosely if the timing proves difficult.
Keep asking, keep seeking, and keep trusting. Let the Lord be the one who opens the door. If he does, walk through it with gratitude. If he closes it for now, do not treat it as rejection. His purposes are deeper than a rental approval or a job transfer, and his care for you and your son is not limited to one city or one building.
May the Lord give you wisdom for the conversation, patience for the waiting, and peace in the outcome, whatever it may be.
The story of Job warns us against reading every hardship as punishment or every open door as proof of blessing. Job's friends were sure they had him figured out. They assumed that if his circumstances had fallen apart, he must have done something wrong, and that if he would only get right, everything would be restored on his terms. They were miserable comforters because they spoke with confidence about things they did not fully understand. You are wise not to demand that God follow your timeline or your plan. He may say yes, and he may say not yet, and either answer will be for your good because he is the one who gives it.
Even so, the desire you describe is not wrong to bring before God. You are asking for provision, for approval, for a new place, and for work. Those are honest needs. Take them to Jesus, the one who stands between us and the Father. Because of him, you do not have to pretend you are without anxiety, and you do not have to hide the ache of feeling stuck. But you also do not have to let that ache become a demand. The fire you feel can be brought to God as a request, while your heart remains willing to accept whatever door he opens or keeps closed.
The picture of a tree cut down, whose roots can still send up new shoots when water comes, is a reminder that new life often begins under the surface in places we cannot see. You may feel stagnant, but God may be doing something in you and in your family that is not yet visible. A move may be part of that, or it may not be. What matters is that you are not left to yourself. He has provided, he has protected, and he has remained with you in the city you have known for so long. He will remain with you in whatever comes next.
As you prepare for the conversation with your daughter and son-in-law, let that same trust shape your words. Reassure them plainly that changing geography is not abandoning them. Choose a gentle time, especially with your daughter carrying their third child, and give them room to hear what you are saying without pressure. Your love for them does not depend on sharing a house. You can be present in their lives from a greater distance, and you can also hold the plan loosely if the timing proves difficult.
Keep asking, keep seeking, and keep trusting. Let the Lord be the one who opens the door. If he does, walk through it with gratitude. If he closes it for now, do not treat it as rejection. His purposes are deeper than a rental approval or a job transfer, and his care for you and your son is not limited to one city or one building.
May the Lord give you wisdom for the conversation, patience for the waiting, and peace in the outcome, whatever it may be.
