Moving mania is in full swing around here. If you have ever tried to sell a house while you are still living in it I am sure you can relate to the – just got a call the hour before the realtor is coming with prospective buyers PANIC.
We have actually had a lot of people wanting to see our house since it went on the market this Monday, so that has left us thankful and tierd.
This past weekend we went to College Station and found a house to rent. Yay! It is close to 2 parks and they are building a neighborhood pool ( the words SOLD crossed my lips about 10 times when I found out about this) – this soon to be 8 months pregnant in August, in Texas Momma is so thankful for that pool!
Although we are thrilled about the neighborhood and know its where God has us, I have to admit its been a little bit emotional thinking about leaving our current home (the lime green sponge paint in the new rental didn’t help either)….
Saying good bye to our house reminds me that earth is not our home, we may live many different places while on this earth and whether lovely or horrible, whether they felt like home or not – the HOME we are longing for will be found only in heaven.
As a way to say good – bye I did something that may seem a little strange unless you are a writer/journaler type person…I wrote a letter to our house….here it is…
I just wanted you to know our leaving has nothing to do with you… Really… its me….not you…
We are the ones leaving you and I honestly have never been so sad to leave behind walls, cement, and brick.
Maybe its that we have been through so much together.
When we first met, you were white. Your walls, carpet and tile gleamed like the teeth on a Crest commercial. At times, your pastiness would overwhelm me and I began to feel a little suffocated with your monochrome presence – but then I took a deep breath, looked into your sea of never ending colorlessness and glimpsed our beautiful destiny.
It began with a few paint samples…that quickly turned into a few more paint samples…which became 22 paint samples (a local home depot paint sample record!). Yes, it took 22 paint samples to determine the main living space palette – but I never once thought you were complicated….you couldn’t help all the “different lighting” which filled you – fluorescent, natural, morning clouds, and afternoon rays…all a part of your uniqueness.
We finally settled on the perfect neutral … named “Wheat Bread” – not too tan or too gray, yet completely more exciting than your typical suburban beige – because you are not a typical suburban home.
When we were tired of traveling, weary of life, needing to feel safe after unforeseen tragedy – there you stood: constant, waiting for us.
You never cared what we were wearing…I preferred sweats and my softest baggy tee-shirt. And regardless of what we were
burning cooking – you accepted us right where we were at.
You are the threshold I was carried across as a blushing bride, the bathroom I danced in when we found out about our first two babies, the walls that heard silent and violent tears when they were gone. You have overheard every
argument discussion and probably winced a few times. You have witnessed apologies long hugs, sweet kisses, and silly jokes. Our tears of rejoicing over our sweet baby bean were captured in your vault.
Life has happened inside you….
I know whoever showers, pees and brushes in your bathrooms will not daily reflect, as I do, “wow those cabinets look so amazing, I am so thankful for the blood, tears, sweat and meltdowns that went into refinishing them.” No one will ever understand…but me…and you, house.
The greatest compliment I ever received about you dear house is that you “looked like a Pottery Barn catalog, only comfier” – I am sure once September 21st 2014 comes I will never hear that compliment for the next 25 years…and I’m ok with that, as long as I can hear the comfy part again.
Last night Rene said, “its not going to feel like we’re really moving until the movers come, empty the rooms and we walk through the house together one last time, empty and bare”…but we aren’t leaving you void anymore.
We have worshiped and prayed in this house daily…we have welcomed the presence and power of an almighty God.
When I walk into our house, I feel the embrace of home….and that’s what we are leaving…we are leaving you a home.
You’re getting a buyer soon a new set of feet or many feet and maybe even some paws will call you their new home.
I pray it will be the kind of sweet home for them that you have been to us.
My people will abide in a peaceful habitation, in secure dwellings, and in quiet resting places. (Isaiah 32:18)
All my Love,
P.S. I wanted to move you but I guess you have to be labeled a “historic” home for that. Apparently, cooking salmon for the first time, remodeling your first bathroom and finally making peace with your role as Kitty Step Mom don’t fit into their historic category….sigh…I tried.
What about you? Have you ever moved from a place and it was hard, why? Or have you ever been happy to move away from your house/apartment/condo, why?