Today is June 8th, 2008. Thirty-nine days from now my roommate will officially have moved out of our apartment. Fifty-four days from now I have to be completely moved out. In less than eight weeks, I will no longer be a CaresTeam. This apartment that has survived a fire, four Thanksgiving dinners and haunted houses, countless events, thousands of baked cookies, hundreds of children running in and out, and two of the most diverse roommates ever put together will no longer be home to me, and to be 100% honest, I’m scared to death. I am 26 years-old (27 in 18 days) and have never lived alone. Heck, I’ve never been alone for more than a week at a time in the apartment. I’m a social butterfly. What am I going to do without kids in my living room watching Hannah Montana? Who will I be if I’m not a CaresTeam? What will I do without this purpose that has propelled me for the past 49 months? To you these may seem like silly, irrational questions, but they’ve haunted me for the past month. I’ve fallen in love with my neighbors and their kids, and no longer being a part of their everyday life seems impossible and heart-breaking.

With time running out, I have been apartment hunting for the past few weeks, and holy crap, is it expensive to live alone! In the past week I’ve contact 19 apartment complexes in town and only three of them have availability before September 1st. Of those three, one starts at $875/month for a 1 bedroom ($1225 for a 2 bedroom), and the other doesn’t have a single positive review online out of 23 online. I’ve looked at houses for rent but don’t really want to pay $1400 a month to live 20 minutes outside of Flagstaff and don’t know of anyone I could room with to split rent. I’ve considered the possibility of just renting a room, but have you seen my house?!? I have more kitchen and cooking supplies than most married women. You have to to do the things we’ve done. I’ve even scoured CraigsList and the local newspaper and have come up empty-handed until today.

Ever had a thought that rests in the back of your mind that you dismiss until out-of-the-blue you realize what a great plan it was. There’s an apartment complex in town that two separate friends of mine have lived in at different times. It’s tucked away close to campus and isn’t comprised of massive buildings but instead mobile home-like structures that contain both a 1 and 2 bedroom apartment. Not many people know of this complex and because it doesn’t have its own website I didn’t come across it as I did my online apartment research. Then as I was pondering emergency plans like living in my office or commuting from a nearby town, I remembered these particular apartments andhow cute and private the area was and how both of my friends appeared to have liked living there. So I called them both and asked for their honest opinion, grabbed one of my most honest friends, and went to tour the models.

From start to finish, I was impressed with what this complex offered. Gone were the gimmicks and hidden strings attached. Unlike most massive complexes, I would only share one wall with a neighbor and would have parking directly outside of my door. The floor plan was open without being cavernous or overwhelming, and there was tons of cabinet and storage space. After looking at both the 1 and 2 bedroom models and asking the leasing agent every question I could come up with, I decided I preferred the 2 bedroom apartment and walked away feeling positive about the experience and opportunity to live there. Now, I just have to apply.

Despite how awesome this place sounds and was, I want to be sure that this is the right place for me. So I’ve decided to wait until the end of the week to apply. Why? Well, because if I truly believe that God has this whole situation under control, then I want to take a few days to pray about my decision. I don’t want to act rashly and make a desperate decision based upon relief at finding a place that is not the right place. Currently, they have five 2 bedroom apartments available so I have no really worry that by this time next week, the apartment I’m praying over will be gone. I’m sure part of me is waiting patiently for guidance because a large part of who I am is praying for a miracle. Praying that this season in my life isn’t over and that I’m not being asked to step away from something I so desperately love. I guess, soon enough, I’ll know and then I’ll be begging you to help me move. So if prayer is something you put faith in, pray for me. I could use it.