I parked in the driveway of our lodge-style home nestled among towering cedars and flowering dogwoods. Even returning from an everyday errand, bringing my youngest kids home from school, I couldn\u2019t help but admire the view and feel blessed.<\/p>\n
John and I had milled each log ourselves, back when our family business doing custom milling was just getting started. I dreamed of growing old here, our six children getting married in the backyard. Emma\u2019s November wedding was only eight months away.<\/p>\n
Strange, <\/em>I thought. There was a white piece of paper taped to the front door. \u201cLook,\u201d I said, \u201cmaybe someone\u2019s invited us to a party.\u201d<\/p>\n Ten-year-old Jack, my youngest, grabbed the note off the door and handed it to me. \u201cWhat is it, Mommy?\u201d<\/p>\n My eyes fixed on one word: FORECLOSURE. I stared at it in disbelief. John had been trying to refinance. There has to be some mistake.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cMom, are you okay?\u201d Amy, my 12-year-old, asked.<\/p>\n I forced a smile. Stay calm. Don\u2019t scare the kids. <\/em>\u201cIt\u2019s nothing,\u201d I told them, shoving the notice into my pocket. \u201cGo get a snack. I\u2019ll come inside after I call Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n I punched speed-dial 1 on my cell. \u201cJohn, I just came home to a foreclosure notice on the door.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?!\u201d he said. \u201cI thought they\u2019d give us more time. But please don\u2019t worry, honey. I won\u2019t let it get to auction.\u201d<\/p>\n Don\u2019t worry? <\/em>\u201cJohn,\u201d I said, fighting to keep my voice down, \u201cI knew we were behind, but you didn\u2019t tell me we\u2019d missed another house payment.\u201d<\/p>\n Silence. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he finally said. \u201cI\u2019ve been praying a big job would come in. Something. I didn\u2019t want to upset you for no reason.\u201d<\/p>\n No reason? A stew of emotions boiled up inside me. Anger, fear, sadness\u2014I pushed it all back down, like trying to shove a beach ball under the water. Blowing up at John wouldn\u2019t help. I knew how our business was struggling. No one was building or remodeling.<\/p>\n Even worse, we\u2019d bankrolled everything with a home-equity loan. We could lose everything. <\/em><\/p>\n No! I couldn\u2019t let myself think like that. We\u2019d been through tough times before. God had always come through for us. I had to stay positive\u2014for John and the kids. That\u2019s what they needed most from me. Not panic.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m coming home,\u201d John said. \u201cI want to talk with everyone. Then I\u2019m going to make some calls and get to the bottom of this. I\u2019ll work it out.\u201d<\/p>\n We gathered in the living room: Jack and Amy, Scott, 14, Mark, who was taking a semester off from college to save money, and Nathan, recently back home after five years in the Marines. Only Emma was on her own.<\/p>\n \u201cWe got some bad news today,\u201d John said. \u201cWe\u2019re behind on our house payments and now the bank wants the money or they say that they will sell the house.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut where would we live?\u201d Amy cried.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not going to get to that,\u201d John said. \u201cI\u2019m trying to get a new loan from the bank and I\u2019ve got some big milling jobs I hope will come through. I know this is upsetting, but we have to trust that God is in control.\u201d<\/p>\n The kids looked at one another, the younger ones\u2019 eyes panicky. As much as it worried me to think of losing our home, I hated even more seeing everyone so scared. I had to say something to make things better.<\/p>\n \u201cNo matter what happens we have each other,\u201d I said. \u201cThat\u2019s what counts.\u201d The kids stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language.<\/p>\n With each passing day it grew clearer that there was nothing more John could do. Calls to prospective customers went unreturned. He applied for loan modification programs only to be rejected or be told we\u2019d owe even more than we did.<\/p>\n We discovered our loan had been sold to a different lender, but they were no more willing to work with us.<\/p>\n \u201cAll they said is that the auction is scheduled for May,\u201d John said. \u201cAnd with penalties and fees, what we owe is nearly double. It\u2019s like they don\u2019t even care.\u201d He slammed the phone into the charger.<\/p>\n I told myself it was just a house, just pieces of timber fitted together. We\u2019d find a new place to live, start over. After all, that\u2019s what we\u2019d done when we moved here 10 years ago from Minnesota.<\/p>\n But then I went to kiss Amy goodnight and found her crying in her room. \u201cI don\u2019t want to leave,\u201d she said. \u201cAll of my friends are here. It won\u2019t be the same somewhere else.\u201d<\/p>\n It broke my heart. I wanted to tell her I was afraid too. But she was hurting enough so I tried to reassure her, \u201cYou\u2019ll make new friends. You\u2019ll see, honey, everything is going to work out.\u201d<\/p>\n I thought Jack was holding up better, until Scott asked if he could sleep in the living room. \u201cJack wakes me up every night,\u201d he said. \u201cI think he\u2019s having nightmares.\u201d<\/p>\n What could I do? I was afraid\u2014no, ashamed\u2014to tell people we were losing our house. Then in early May the auction notice was printed in the newspaper. No way to avoid it now. It was official, scheduled for the same day as Scott\u2019s eighth-grade graduation.<\/p>\n I was glad for an excuse not to go to the courthouse. \u201cThey really need volunteers to help set up for graduation,\u201d I told John. \u201cBoth of us don\u2019t need to be at the auction.\u201d<\/p>\n Inside the school gym I set up chairs. The other volunteers talked about summer vacation plans. All I could think about were the strangers bidding on our house, like vultures feasting on our misfortune. Dear God, <\/em>I prayed, if there\u2019s any chance for a miracle\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n Late that afternoon John came by the school. He looked drained, exhausted. There had been no last-minute reprieve. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d he said. \u201cI hope I live long enough to make this up to you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ll get through it,\u201d I choked out. I wished I could believe it.<\/p>\n The next morning we started packing. We didn\u2019t know when the final eviction notice would arrive, but there was no point in delaying the inevitable. I pulled out boxes and old newspapers and wrapped my great-grandmother\u2019s dishes.<\/p>\n John and the kids helped, but it felt like we were in separate worlds, grim-faced, barely speaking to each other. Around me were memories of happier times, only now it seemed as if they were all being packed away too.<\/p>\n We filled the boxes I had on hand. John took the kids to get more. I watched the car go down the driveway. Just an errand, but it felt like more than that, the distance between us more than I could possibly bridge.<\/p>\n I needed to know how to help them. Maybe if I got some advice, or could call someone. I thought of Linda, an old friend from high school. She\u2019d gotten her master\u2019s in psychology.<\/p>\n I told her everything. \u201cIt\u2019s all I can do to keep from crying,\u201d I said. \u201cBut I don\u2019t want to scare the kids even more\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow could you not cry?\u201d she said. \u201cLosing your home is like a death in the family. You need to let yourself grieve. And share your sadness with your children and John. They need to know it\u2019s okay to feel sad. Grief is a journey that leads to healing and stronger faith. But you have to go through it and not pretend it isn\u2019t happening and your feelings aren\u2019t real.\u201d<\/p>\n I was sobbing before she even finished, tears of anger and loss, fear and regret flooding down my cheeks.<\/p>\n John and I had been trying so hard to protect each other, to protect the kids. But that meant each of us ended up suffering alone, hiding from the truth, when what we needed was to allow ourselves to hurt and heal together.<\/p>\n I thanked Linda and hung up. I sank to my knees, my whole body shaking. Hadn\u2019t John and I always taught the kids to trust God in all things, that his hands were big enough to hold our greatest fears?<\/p>\n Yet the truth of the matter was, even though I\u2019d pleaded for him to save us from foreclosure, I hadn\u2019t trusted him with my real problem\u2014the roiling feelings that went with losing our home and wondering what the future held.<\/p>\n