It was almost a year that the house was on the market. We stashed our "stuff" in storage. Lived with a "few" school things and just made due for the year. We waited and waited and waited. Would today be the day the realtor would call? The call barely came. In fact, the house only showed twice! That's right…in almost 10 months we got the call twice! UGH! I looked at Mike one night and said, "I'm done. Pull it off the market, get our stuff out of storage and let's just be here. Clearly this is where we are. Then, of course, it happened. We found our dream house. Well, my dream house. It's growing on Mike.
It has the sweetest porch. It practically begs you to sit and stay a spell. There are the sweetest planters that look like rain boots that hold pink geraniums. The front door is rounded. Rounded like gnomes might live there. It almost seems magical. Once through the front door your eyes are immediately drawn to the wood ceilings and the floor to ceiling book shelves. What a cozy evening I imagined. That you would just pull a book off the shelf and sit and spend the evening reading and laughing. The mantel was old. The house was old…and charming. The mantel was adorned with treasures. It seemed like each treasure may have a story simply waiting to be told. Old bottles, a hand held mirror, and a watering can overflowing with giant flowers. The dining room is really the same room…just defined by a table. A small china hutch with a pattern that seemed to have had this house in mind when it was created. Yellow with pops of red. Fresh flowers in an old window pane. One word…charming. I knew that I loved it, but then I walked into the kitchen. I was so surprised to see granite countertops. I never thought that such an unassuming house would boast such a practical beauty. Perhaps I should have expected it. The cabinets still needed a little bit of work, but nothing that a weekend couldn't handle. The floors seemed to be freshly installed and were a color that would keep dirt hidden on days when a busy mom couldn't get to them. It was perfect. There were nooks and crannies with arts and crafts creatively tucked away and I knew when I saw it that this was the house of my dreams. It was small…would probably be termed "quaint" but I imagine that the family would fill it's walls with laughter and joy. It would force the people fortunate enough to call it home to live so close that hiding from one another would be impossible. Tucked away at the end of an unassuming road would give them a safe haven. A soft place to land after a long day. If only…wait…it is….it was my house all along.
We never meant to stay here this long. We moved in to get out of debt. We were only passing through. We were a family of 4 when we moved in, and now being a family of 6, we just felt like we had a muffin top. When sweet Caroline was a mere six weeks old, I got a burst of energy and painted, packed up books and we had a sign placed in our yard. Then we began to wait. We waited patiently, for the most part, anyway. I would get fed up, declaring that the house was insanely too small and that I couldn't wait until our new house. Then I'd back down, (sleep) and realize that it could work, and that God doesn't withhold any good thing from those that are His. Could this possibly be the best? Could this house be His gift to us. Yup. It could be. In fact, it is. I was dumbfounded. I think I was surprised to realize that God is HUGE, but sometimes His best gifts are sort of smaller. Perhaps "quaint" would be a better word. :) The lifestyle that is possible as we fill this house with precious treasures is from the Lord. The relationships that are cultivated as 3 of us sit in a chair designed for 1 are priceless. We have to keep short accounts because there isn't room to hide. We have to share our space, or time…our closets. Nothing is really "mine." It really can't be. Although, I will tell you that "I" got new countertops. So, here we are…finally home. As I sit in my living room that is lined with our favorite friends (that's what I call my books) looking out into the woods that occupy hours of the kids' time, I couldn't be more full. I couldn't feel more thankful that the Lord would be so merciful to us. He spared us missing out on this. We have gotten down right ruthless with our space. I've painted and purged and Mike has sanded and assembled…and we stand amazed at the amount of space that we DO have. The truth is, we are only passing through. Where we feel like we are finally home, we still have a home being prepared for us. This will certainly be just fine until then.
If you are in the area and want to see what we've done and how it's working, please stop by and sit a spell.