TGIF

Today the "F" stands for foreclosure.  And yes, I am thanking God for it. 

It's not the plan we had, but it was obviously the plan HE had.  I feel horrible for all the people involved in this process with us that are now left high and dry, though.  The buyers, their agent, our agent, and the loss mitigator all put a ton of time, energy and money into this deal, with nothing to show.  But again, God's plan, not ours.

Ultimately, Mr. Four Walls and I have accepted that this is likely the better ending for us.  The wording of the short-sale acceptance was so vague, we would have spent the next 6 years (the statute of limitations on collecting on a default here in our state) looking over our shoulders, waiting, wondering if the bank was going to come calling, wanting more money.  This path, foreclosure, saves us from that and while I didn't expect to feel this way, I'm relieved - almost celebratory for our own personal situation (but again, NOT for those of everyone else, especially the hard working Realtors that fought so hard for this to go through).

It's over.  Yes, we will have a foreclosure on our credit history, and that will likely cause a few more bumps in the road for the next 7 years or so.  Overall, though, it's over. The question has been answered and we can move on with our lives.

So, TGIF.

Lies, Lies, Lies

(Can you hear the Thompson Twins singing in the background? Cue it up on your MP3 player of choice - c'mon, admit it. It's on there.)

This morning I wasted spent a little over an hour in a conference call with the bank and the loss mitigator, during which two very disturbing lies told by the bank in the past year were uncovered.

Lie: Fannie Mae approved the short-sale back in May.
Truth: Fannie Mae has not approved the short sale, and is unlikely to due to the large amount by which we're underwater on the loan.

Lie: The file was sent to Fannie Mae for review back in March.
Truth: To date, the file has never been sent to Fannie Mae for review.

So where does this leave us? With several sobering truths:

Truth: The buyer's extension on their offer expires today.

Truth: When asked earlier this week, prior to the information above coming to light, they said they'd sign a two-week extension to wait a bit longer for the supposedly forthcoming approval letter.

Truth: The bank is now demanding a minimum of a 30-day extension from them to show that they're a serious buyer (as if the past seven months of putting up with this s*!@ hasn't proven that...).

Truth: Even if the buyers agree to the 30 days, Fannie Mae will still have to review and decide if they'll take the offer or move ahead on the foreclosure.

Truth: The bank will not submit the file to Fannie Mae without the 30 day extension from the buyers.

Truth: Once (if) received, it will take Fannie Mae several weeks to review and notify the bank of their decision. We would then have wait any more additional time for the bank to notify us, in writing of the denial or acceptance, and any terms of the acceptance.

Truth: The current BPO (Broker's Price Opinion, which helps the bank and Fannie Mae determine fair market value) expires August 8th.  If the approval is not received and the deal isn't closed by then, a new BPO would have to be ordered, taking another two weeks or so to work through the inept system.

Truth: The bank says they will not request a new BPO unless the buyers sign a 30-day extension AND they believe that Fannie Mae is close to issuing an approval AND they believe we will successfully close but after the August 8th expiration.

Truth: Today is July 21st.

Truth: The foreclosure date is set for September 9th.

Truth: It generally takes 30-45 days to close a sale on all the approvals, etc are settled; faster closings are possible but hard to pull off in this market of scrutiny (ironic, huh?).

Truth: The buyers are unlikely to sign a 30-day extension because they can count the dwindling days still available to make this happen, and they can read the writing on the wall.

Truth: This deal, and our attempt at avoiding a foreclosure, is all but dead and we're SOL.

Truth: I am angry, frustrated, and harboring some other serious negative emotions towards the bank right now.

Truth: GOD HAS COMPLETE CONTROL, and this - as I say in the About Me section to the right - is just a blip in the radar screen of my life. It's not life or death.  My family is healthy and together with a roof over our heads, and food in our bellies. I'm blessed to be listening as I type to one child making a sandwich down the hall, another tapping her feet on the bed as she devours another book, and the third - the game changer that took us over the ledge onto this course once and for all -  babbling away over the baby-monitor, fighting her afternoon nap.

The sky is not falling, the world is still turning, and in the grand scheme of things this whole ordeal has been a blessing. It's not officially over, of course, but for me it pretty much is.  We're on a collision course with foreclosure, but it doesn't really matter.  We'll walk away from the impact with some battle scars and a longer period of financial rehabilitation than we hoped, but we'll be okay.

(Especially after you tubing Lies here.  I challenge you not to smile and dance a bit while watching the video. If only the bank's lies were so entertaining to experience.)

Purgatory, Dirty Underwear, Falling Ladders, and Perspective

Another week, and no lookers since those last Thursday.  Still waiting.

I'm not Catholic, so bear with me here. I know that the previous Pope declared that Purgatory does not exist.  Biblically speaking, as a Protestant Christian, I agree.  However, in this physical-realm I think that it does, in way, whenever we have to wait.  I mean really waiting,  Anxiously waiting, for something serious.  Not just when you have to be patient for the checker at Fred Meyer, or wait a month or two until you have the money to buy something you really want.  I mean Wait with a capital W, as in Waiting on test results to know if the cancer has returned, or as in Waiting to hear from the doctor if a loved one is going to pull-through the surgery.  Big Waiting. Potentially life-changing Waiting. The time when you have a house on the market is lower-case waiting....waiting for when someone will stop in for a look....waiting for when an offer will come in....waiting to see if your dear husband cleaned up the dirty underwear before he and the kids left the house this morning.  Throw into the mix that you're not trying "simply" to sell a house, but you're trying to beat the foreclosure clock and all the ramifications of that process.  In this scenario, the limbo-fires slowly begin to creep in and consume the perimeter of a barren waiting room, with my family in the center, huddled in our hard, plastic, circa-1962 airport terminal chairs. Upper-case Waiting.  Big Waiting.  Purgatory Waiting.

But not really.  See, there are days when I can really feel the heat of the flames as they hungrily lick at the foundation of my financial future.  Foreclosures are big, black marks in this credit driven society, no doubt about it.  And boy, are we waiting.  Waiting for an offer.  Waiting for the bank.  Waiting to find out when and where we'll be moving, where the kids will attend school, whether or not we'll find a place that fits in our budget and still meets our needs (and maybe a few wants).  Waiting, waiting, waiting.  God is so good, though, and always comes through to put things back in perspective for me when I start to sweat from the heat, making me stop in my anxiety-riddled tracks, reminding me that this is not purgatory. Sometimes it's in the form of a note from a friend, offering a prayer or a bit of encouragement.  Sometimes it comes from seeing the sweet smile on my baby's face as she reaches up to greet me after a long day, squealing as I lift her into the air for a long-overdue embrace.  Sometimes a ladder falls, and we get to truly experience the big Waiting. Anxious, worried, pleading, prayerful waiting as loved ones are at the hospital and we sit in our chairs, unable to impact the outcome. 

This weekend, as we passed the time relaxing and catching up with my oldest brother and his family, such an incident occurred.  Work was being done on his home.  Power tools, powered up.  Hoses and pressure washers, rolled out.  Ladders, extended.  The sun was shining, the baby was napping, and the kids were playing happily as the adults did chores and chit-chatted.  Then, shortly before noon, a crash and a scream shattered the idyllic din of laughter, power tools, and good tunes that were serving our Sunday morning soundtrack.  While moving a heavy, 40-foot extension ladder my brother's brother lost control of it (my family-tree is not included in this post as it would be too large and complicated for even a single branch to be explained...), and it came crashing down.  On. top. of. his. four. year. old. son.  Purgatory Waiting.  Mr. Four Walls saw it happening from where he was working inside the house, but couldn't get to him quickly enough.  Purgatory Waiting. He was there a split-second after the bottom rung landed squarely in the sweet child's head.  He ripped that ladder off the boy and scooped him out from under the weight.  But the damage was done.  The ladder had fallen, and it had landed on a small child, hitting him the head and pinning him to the ground. We assessed him as he cried (a wonderful sound, given the circumstances).  Relatively little blood.  Some serious goose-eggs.  Reactive pupils.  No loss of consciousness.  His dad strapped him into his car seat and whisked him to the hospital, while my sister-in-law called the boy's mother.  Purgatory Waiting.  A text: initial assessment is that he's okay, but they want to do a CAT scan.  Purgatory Waiting.  Another text: CAT scan done, waiting for results.   Purgatory Waiting.  Another text:  CAT scan done, results look good, and he can go home.  Miraculous, inexplicable, and utter relief.

A ladder fell, a miracle was granted, and I was reminded what I'm writing about.  Four walls, a roof, a door, some windows.  No more, no less.  We usually raise ladders for better reach, for better perspective.  Yesterday a ladder had to fall to give me a better perspective.  Am I still waiting in a limbo-like state?  Yes.  Will we feel some heat in the months and years ahead?  Yes.  Will I always remember how I feel today, with this better perspective?  Maybe, but I'll probably have more days when my vision is clouded over a bit.  But for today I remember, I see, that while my circumstances are conducive to big Waiting, Purgatory Waiting, there can, and will, be bigger Waits.  Scarier Waits.  More painful Waits.  Purgatory, in the traditional sense, does not exist - but falling ladders do.  Definitely helps to give me the perspective me get over the dirty underwear left on the bedroom floor.

Hug your children, and please brush up on your ladder/power-tool safety if you're doing any projects around the house this summer.