After a whole lotta searching and option-considering and prayer, the Powers clan has settled––landed, one might even say––in Houston for the next six months or so. As you know, this pregnancy caught us a bit by surprise, and has required a higher level of flexibility and reconsideration of "firm" plans than we have been asked of in the past. And so as we weighed the various options, and my husband started looking for temporary employment to sustain our little brood as we waited for baby #4 to make his appearance, we kept hitting brick walls. The locum tenems company (which places doctors in temporary assignments) that he was working with kept coming up with either unreasonable or rather undesirable offers, none of which seemed to match what Chris was requesting. The length of time required to simply obtain a medical license in another state was becoming prohibitive, as his search began in February and he was told that the process in many states could take up to 7-8 months, never mind the lengthy credentialing timeline at most hospitals. And so we wondered, what are we going to do? And it turned out, as our heavenly Father keeps telling us, that it wasn't that we had to do anything––we just had to ask.
My husband's choice of pursuing a fellowship and career in pulmonary/critical care medicine was primarily the result of his interaction with and tremendous respect for one man, and that man is a pulmonologist at the Texas Medical Center where Chris and I did our residencies. Don't get me wrong––Chris had an interest and innate talent for this field, but he will be the first to admit that this teacher and mentor of his has had a profound impact on his (and therefore our family's) life. And so, as his job search kept hitting dead ends, Chris finally decided to pick up the phone and give his old mentor a call. I'll spare you some of the details, but suffice it to say that within 24 hours of that phone call, Chris had a job offer (soon followed by a contract) for a position in one of the premier hospitals in Houston, doing exactly what he wanted to do, on exactly the work schedule he desired, with full disclosure that this was a temporary deal and with absolutely no strings attached. (And since we retained our Texas medical licenses, hospital credentialing would not be an issue either.) All because of one phone call to that beloved teacher.
And that alone would make a great story of faith and letting go and following our instincts and trusting in a God who provides above and beyond what we ask and certainly more than we deserve. But that is not all, folks. Oh no, that is not nearly all.
When my husband next spoke with his mentor, Pat, to thank him for whatever magic he did to produce such a perfect opportunity, he offered us the use of his home for us to live in while we are in Houston. What?!? "Look, Chris," he said, "our two kids are in college and it's just my wife and me in this four-bedroom house. Please just plan to stay with us." And so, yes, this is the part where I step in and say, are you kidding me? We can't accept that! We are a family of five, soon to be six! I am planning to homeschool these kids in the fall--we'll be in the house much of the day! We're expecting a newborn soon! What are these people thinking? Don't they realize the intrusion and inconvenience that they are welcoming? For six months???
So we accepted their kind offer as a temporary measure, you know, until we found a rental place of our own. But as soon as we relayed that message, I received an email and phone call from Pat's wife, Kathi, in which she stated in no uncertain terms that they were both fully on board with this offer--and it was for us to remain with them for the duration of our time in Houston. She saw this as an opportunity to "be of help in {our} journey and mission," and said that she was thrilled that they could be a part of our experience. She went on to talk about the fact that they are fairly busy in their respective careers and so we would be welcome--and expected, in fact--to totally take over their house. And oh, by the way, since she had foster children for several years, she could certainly obtain baby clothes, strollers, playpens, etc., as needed for when our little one arrives. And since my parents live only a short drive away in south Louisiana, then they, too, would be warmly welcomed to stay in the house upon the baby's birth. And if I needed any advice on homeschooling curriculum, Kathi is available there as well since she has a masters degree in teaching and is currently pursuing a PhD in curriculum. Oh yes she is.
So what do you do when confronted with this kind of generosity? When you feel the hand of God right in the midst of your stress and confusion and uncertainty? When you come to realize that saints don't just exist in the Bible or in faraway holy places and times? That, in fact, saints live right down the street from Houston's medical complex, and they open their home and hearts and lives...just because "it's what {they} do." Not for praise or honor, but for the simple fact that they love, and they live that love, and they give so very freely that it is humbling simply to witness their generosity...not to mention receive it.
And so we did what we thought was the right thing--we said a tremendously grateful and humbled and awe-filled yes to their crazy-generous offer. We said that we appreciated them more than they could know. We said that we would help around the house in any way possible, that our kids really aren't all that disruptive, that we were accustomed to living in community after our mission formation time, that we did not want to upset their routine in any way. And they, characteristically, would have nothing of it. You must live in this house, they said. Your kids must feel like this is their home and run around and be kids! We don't expect anything from you but that you make yourselves totally at home here, they said. This transition may be harder for you than for us, they said.
So here we are now, months later, having completed our mission formation classes in Los Angeles, and having lugged our kiddos and our (not so many now) earthly possessions back across the country. We are settling quite nicely into Pat and Kathi's beautiful home, in their beautiful neighborhood full of parks and sidewalks and an amazing water park and tennis courts and quiet, and access to more than we need or want. I sit and type in our adorable bedroom, with our sweet babes sleeping very comfortably in their new bedrooms, while Chris takes call at the hospital as he begins his second week of work as a hospitalist. We have landed in a place that is not just full of comfort and convenience as we await our sweet little one's arrival (I'm 33 weeks along now)...but we've found ourselves in a place where we are constantly reminded that God is right here--in the many acts of kindness that surround us everyday, in the challenges of transitioning to a new phase of life, and in the simple truth that we serve a God who cannot and will not be outdone in generosity, if only we take the time to see it.
“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened."
Matthew 7:7-8
