I remember the day we found the house. Mike, our realtor opened the door as we got to the front steps and said, “You guys are going to like this one.” I was pessimistic. Our house hunting experience, so far, had many major fails. The fails ranged from thick, wet hair in the shower drain to finding old ladies in the master bedroom. I have nothing but love for old ladies but it’s hard to visualize myself in a space when one is yelling at me to check out the spacious closet. I walked in to the house, rubbed my big, preggo belly and knew that this was the place that I would bring my first baby home to. Thirty days later we closed on the house.
Me, three months after buying our house. I was headed to the hospital to have my baby. My legs were the size of tree trunks.
I loved this house. It had a gorgeous brick arch in the kitchen and the backyard gets the most amazing breeze in the evening. All three of my babies came home from the hospital to that house. They learned how to walk and talk in that house and celebrated their first birthdays in that house. We took on a major backyard renovation, turning the dreams of what the space could be into a reality. I learned about home owners insurance, property taxes and developed a deep
hate dislike for AT&T in that house. True story – AT&T is the worst. I painted various walls way to many times to count, bought my first grown-up piece of furniture (a farmhouse dinner table/buffet set which my kids have happily destroyed) and spent the last 6 years making that house our home.
A few weeks ago, we accepted an offer on our house. We are living with my parents for a few months before we make a big life change and move to North Carolina. My husband will spend the next 2+ years completing his seminary degree. A little over a week ago, I handed over the keys my perfect little house. Boom. Just like that a bunch of randos were living in my house. Change smacked me in the face and I was a wreck. Like an ugly crying in the middle of the closing, making everyone suuuppeeerr uncomfortable, kind of wreck.
I have never been great with change. I have never needed to be. I have spent a good portion of the last 30 years at the same church. I spent K3-12th grade at the same school and I went to college an hour away from home and came home on the weekends. Our home was 5 minutes from my old school and is a stones throw away from the neighborhood that I grew up in. My life has been full of the same people, same things and same places for almost my entire life. Minus one random year that I lived in Kentucky. I have made peace with all of these changes but for some reason, leaving that house has been the one change that I am struggling with.
It is just a house, I know. There will be more, I hope, but I felt that it needed proper documentation here so that I could look back on this post in a few years and remember how God took care of us in this home. I am humbled by His goodness in providing it to us. It was the best, most undeserved blessing.