And life goes on.

Dad’s observation was “It’s only money. And even thousands are small-scale in God’s economy, and He will protect you.”

It was good to hear. I hadn’t gotten that far.

“It’s only money” is one of several lines attached in my mind to my dad.

“Money is just really important to some people,” he said. “Just let them have it, and get away.”

And that, I guess, is what we’re doing now. Lord-willing we’ll never have to sell again, but if we do we know what we’re doing differently.

The fight-or-flight surge that flooded my system hours ago seems to be dispersing, so I hope to sleep soon. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with the descriptive blurb I wrote for our house.

(The end result makes me think of those sentences I used to have to write in elementary school, proving I knew how to use each word properly, that I knew what each meant. The idea was to write one sentence per word, but that wasn’t the letter of the law, and I remember the subversive thrill of creating– usually with my dad’s help– sentences crammed with required words. All used correctly, of course.)

Our house (hyperbolized, for the market):

Five minutes’ walk from the Joy Elementary School playground and five minutes’ driving from Fairbanks’s largest shopping district, this well-maintained home has everything: oversized two car garage with workbench and extensive shelving, fenced yard with established lawn, well-lit and open living space with laminate flooring. Along with extensive counter space and generous cupboards, the kitchen is equipped with a glass-top range and a brand new dishwasher.  Home is full of natural light and fronted by a garden plot with perennials already beginning to grow.

There. Don’t you want to come visit now?

I mean, buy it?