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- Chris Fabry
- Married to Andrea since 1982. We have 9 children together and none apart. Our dog's name is Tebow.
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Where We Are Now
After finding and remediating mold twice in our Colorado home, we abandoned ship in October 2008. Because of the high levels of exposure, our entire family was affected. After months of seeing different specialists for all of the problems, we came to Arizona to begin comprehensive treatment to rid our bodies of the toxic buildup. In August 2009 we moved into a larger home, four bedrooms, south of Tucson, north of Mexico. I am doing my daily radio program/ writing from that location. Thanks for praying for us. We really feel it.
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Monday, May 24, 2010
I did something today I never thought I would do. The thought never entered my mind. Almost ten years ago, our family moved into what we felt was a castle and we set down roots as far as the rocky soil of Colorado would allow.
Today I went to the USPS website and changed our address again. The post office gives you a choice between a “temporary” and “permanent” change. I had chosen temporary before because it was always our hope to move back to Colorado. Not to our old house, we knew we couldn’t live there, but some place in the vicinity. Our friends are there. Schools, our church, Walmart.
Today I marked the circle “Permanent,” and put in our current address in Arizona. The act was one in a long list of finals we’ve been going through. This one seemed significant to me. Just a mark on a website. Just a little circle with a black dot inside. How can such a small thing bring up so much pain and hurt?
At the end of the week, if all goes as planned, we will turn over our home to someone who has promised to remediate it correctly. They are paying off the rest of the loan, leaving us with memories and clean credit. It’s a victory of sorts for us, getting out from under the crushing weight of the house. But it’s also a loss.
This Saturday the dumpsters will arrive and everything we treasured, every Pat Conroy book that had been signed by the author, my daughter’s Taylor guitar, my first guitar I bought in tenth grade, all of our clothes, bedding, keepsakes from 27 years of marriage, Christmas ornaments, baby covers—everything we treasured will go into dumpsters.
If the bank had gotten the home, who knows how well it would have been cleaned. This really is the best scenario, but in a way it feels like getting kicked out of the Garden. I wanted to watch my daughters get married in that house. I wanted to write the Great American Novel there. I wanted to bury our dogs in the back yard.
But the hopes and dreams of ten years are going in the dumpster. The Lord gives and he takes away. Blessed be his name. The Lord drives some into the desert, to a dry and thirsty land. And souls are stirred in arid places.
Once, Jesus was asked why a man had been born blind, if it was his own sin or the sin of his parents that had caused his loss of sight. I picture Jesus smiling at them and pausing, knowing what would happen. Knowing what he could do in an instant. The man’s condition, he said, was not because of anyone’s sin, but so that the glory of God could be revealed. And he opened the man’s eyes and he saw for the first time.
Filled dumpsters seem an unlikely place for the glory of God to be revealed. But I have the faith to believe it. And I’m praying for eyes that can see.
Today I went to the USPS website and changed our address again. The post office gives you a choice between a “temporary” and “permanent” change. I had chosen temporary before because it was always our hope to move back to Colorado. Not to our old house, we knew we couldn’t live there, but some place in the vicinity. Our friends are there. Schools, our church, Walmart.
Today I marked the circle “Permanent,” and put in our current address in Arizona. The act was one in a long list of finals we’ve been going through. This one seemed significant to me. Just a mark on a website. Just a little circle with a black dot inside. How can such a small thing bring up so much pain and hurt?
At the end of the week, if all goes as planned, we will turn over our home to someone who has promised to remediate it correctly. They are paying off the rest of the loan, leaving us with memories and clean credit. It’s a victory of sorts for us, getting out from under the crushing weight of the house. But it’s also a loss.
This Saturday the dumpsters will arrive and everything we treasured, every Pat Conroy book that had been signed by the author, my daughter’s Taylor guitar, my first guitar I bought in tenth grade, all of our clothes, bedding, keepsakes from 27 years of marriage, Christmas ornaments, baby covers—everything we treasured will go into dumpsters.
If the bank had gotten the home, who knows how well it would have been cleaned. This really is the best scenario, but in a way it feels like getting kicked out of the Garden. I wanted to watch my daughters get married in that house. I wanted to write the Great American Novel there. I wanted to bury our dogs in the back yard.
But the hopes and dreams of ten years are going in the dumpster. The Lord gives and he takes away. Blessed be his name. The Lord drives some into the desert, to a dry and thirsty land. And souls are stirred in arid places.
Once, Jesus was asked why a man had been born blind, if it was his own sin or the sin of his parents that had caused his loss of sight. I picture Jesus smiling at them and pausing, knowing what would happen. Knowing what he could do in an instant. The man’s condition, he said, was not because of anyone’s sin, but so that the glory of God could be revealed. And he opened the man’s eyes and he saw for the first time.
Filled dumpsters seem an unlikely place for the glory of God to be revealed. But I have the faith to believe it. And I’m praying for eyes that can see.
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5 comments:
As lame as it will sound to you at this point, Larry Norman was right: we're only visiting this planet. Our Heavenly Father has a better house with a better view in mind for us. I only wish He'd hurry up that closing date.
Still praying for you and your family, brother. Not as often as I should, but I still am. Keep on keeping on and greet all your treasures from me.
The dumpster is the only option? I feel sick.
We all rememeber to story of the boy in the bubble. My daughter, now 34, first years of her life were simular. I feel such a bond with you and your family as we delt with an amazing research doctor, Douglas Sandberg at the University of Miami. People thought the treatment was crazy...the 4 day rotory diets, food shots, ect.....it paid off in the end, but it was a huge struggle. When I think of the Fabry's, my heart hurts and I just want to hug all of you. God Bless.
Hi Chris and Andrea: How are you all doing? I've been following your story as you know and hope you are well. Please keep us updated.
Chris the very first time I heard your show I was traveling by myself and it lead me to search for you and found you on Moody radio station in the Quad Cities WDLM
I prayed for you and your family that day and I would have it been a different experience but I believe the LORD has used it to enrich your gift. It is a gift.