House Sellers, Midwestern Edition

I sent my husband the following text message this afternoon: "I'm the biggest mess of skepticism and optimism you ever saw."

It's all because of this:

That's our house. The one we own but no longer inhabit. The one that's been on the market for 30 months.

The one where I saw views like this almost every night:

According to our agent, some potential buyers are writing us an offer tonight.

It's a little like that feeling you get when you're trying to get pregnant. Maybe you've been trying for months, maybe you've even gotten pregnant only to watch your dreams bleed away when the baby died. You've been waiting and hoping and praying and believing and expecting and despairing and protecting for so long, it feels like it will be this way forever.

And then.

And then, the little stick turns positive.

Afraid to hope. Afraid not too.

Will you pray?

We've gotten a couple of offers before, but both were so low -- almost half our asking price -- they weren't even a consideration.

Would you pray this offer is fair? Would you pray this is God's answer to our plea? Would you pray that, even if this isn't God's answer, that we would continue to believe in His timing, His plan?

I'll let you know what happens.