Tim tells me I should write about our move. The move. Billions of people move – but when you are a hyper-sentimental, get ‘er done, obsessive saver of all things kid-related, moving creates havoc on the soul. Packing the house sent me into a frenzy of behaviors and emotions – score-keeping, tears, reflection, monkey brain to-do list making, gratefulness, sorting, sorting, and more sorting, and frustration at shit everywhere.

Last summer, we decided to sell our Chandana home in Valparaiso, Indiana. I loved that house. I loved that neighborhood, and I love those neighbors. We raised five kids there, but it was just too much house for us. We bought a house within walking distance to Lake Michigan and decided it was time to downsize in Valpo.

On Aug. 6th, the house went on the market. When the For Sale sign went up, Katie and Bethy  stopped by on their way to the lake. As each pulled up in the driveway, they wept. Not a good sign.

A month later, my friends at work gave me a birthday card with a sketch of St. Joseph to bury upside down in our backyard. I laughed and discarded it. I figured if St. Joseph wanted to help me, he’d help me. Plus there are so many things to pray about. I wasn’t about to bother the saints about the house. Cancer calls for prayer. Broken relationships lead to crawling on your knees. Difficult births call for reigning on the heavens. Selling a house means cleaning, giving stuff away, and tossing crap.

In October, one of Tim’s clients gave him a small box proclaiming “The Authentic St. Joseph” complete with statue, description of “The Way of St. Joseph,” and a petition to the beloved saint. Weeks later, Tim remembered to give it to me. I opened it and without a thought, shoved it in a kitchen drawer (quite ironic considering my fixation with emptying every crevice in the house).

On Nov. 6th  – with no offers on the house – as I was searching for reflectors for my pre-dawn run, I came across the St. Joseph box. After removing the three inch alabaster figurine from the cardboard contraption, I set St. Joe on the counter. The tiny brochure described “The Authentic Way” to call upon St. Joseph to help sell our house. In a nutshell, the steps were to ask, believe, trust, thank, move, and share. So I asked, believed, trusted, thanked, and moved St. Joseph to a prominent spot in the house as required in the “Authentic Way.” It made much more sense not to bury him upside down in the yard. In my gut, digging a head-first crypt in the lawn was nonsense, but perching St. Joe next to my computer was perfectly logical.

That day, we got a cash offer on our house. Honest to goodness.

The last step in “The Authentic Way” is to share your experience with others. This morning, July 3rd, I found the St. Joseph box as I was cleaning and procrastinating writing. I am now sharing –   finally.