St. Gertrude’s Cottage has fallen victim to a long-running family misunderstanding that just won’t go away, a misunderstanding spawned from something no longer valid, yet it remains the gauge for every word, every action. Family misunderstandings are the most tragic; they often become family legends, perpetuated myths that deform with each telling. It’s almost impossible to recover from the wreckage in which they leave you. God’s hand was in the inception and development of the concept of St. Gertrude’s Cottage. Lots of prayer went into it as God shut doors to direct me closer to fulfillment of the idea. The Dark One loves to wreck such plans, and he swayed hearts and thoughts in the ways he knew would prompt others to achieve his destructive goal for him.
Fortunately, I am recovering from the devastation that my fears about what my family might do have come true. God did not let me down, though. He gave me a quiet peace as I stood in horror that it fell apart…for a misunderstanding. There was comfort amid the tragedy, a tragedy of many dimensions. In fact, on the morning after one of the worst nights of my life when the news came that the plan for St. Gertrude’s Cottage had died, God touched me gently. As I was driving to work listening to a local Christian radio station, the pastor delivering his message spoke of misunderstandings, of family misunderstandings, of how they weaken and destroy what is precious, how it is almost always impossible to recover from them. That message was for me. Plain and simple.
So, as I move away from the pain, I await the hand of God again. I sit in my house amid all the belongings packed in boxes, a house half-empty from all the furniture I gave away in anticipation of my move. There will be a different move. The plan is for St. Gertrude’s Cottage to become a reality, whether by my hand or another. I waited two years with excitement and hope and love only to see the plan destroyed. I can wait a few more years as it unfolds once again.
