This week begins our all out packing week. We are loading the moving truck next Tuesday, and heading for a storage unit in Ohio. Sentiment and emotions are coursing through every vein in my body. I look around our house and cry. I weep for the memories made, I grieve for the memories not yet made, and I feel overwhelmed with God's guiding hand through it all.
Eric and I bought our house a little over 3 years ago. It was a short sale and needed a lot of work. If my house could talk 3 years later, I would hope it would say, "I was loved well."
Man, I love this dumb old 1950's house. When Eric and I put our offer in on the house I was 8/9 weeks pregnant with baby #2, the day the bank accepted our offer we were on our way to the hospital losing baby #2. At first this house was a milestone for us, our expanding family, growing roots here in Milwaukee, making a better life for our family. Then this house represented loss and anger. We weren't sure we wanted it, we walked back through and I fell in love even more. We were prepared to raise one happy little girl there, and be a family of 3.
The journey to make this home ours continued for months with lots of downs and a couple ups. We shelled out more than expected and worked harder than we thought humanly possible, but in the end on April 30, 2010 that house that needed so much love became ours.
When we signed that ever mounting stack of papers saying we would be financially responsible for this house, we signed and committed a lot more than just making monthly payments. Because see God heals, he restores, he brings beauty from hurt, I signed those papers with a growing, healthy baby in my belly.
This house helped heal us, it helped make a little sense from a senseless loss of a baby a couple months before. It helped us learn to love and see beauty in the unexpected. It afforded us a chance to make glorious memories as a family of 3, and now as a family of 4.
If this house could talk I would hope it would tell you that we like to have fun, we play hide and go seek, we read lots of books, and we have movie nights with popcorn and m&m's.
We also sometimes lose ourselves in the moment, but we forgive with hugs and kisses. I hope this house would tell you that Eric and I are striving to do our best to show God to all who enter through our old wooden door. That in our house you are accepted as you are, and we love you that much more for it. I hope this house would tell you that as loud as it can get, it can also be that much more quiet.
If this house could talk I sincerely hope it would say it was going to miss us, because I am going to miss the heck out of it.
So this week as I pack up each room, I am praying for the good memories to overflow and flood me until I am about to burst. I pray the dam over my mended heart doesn't break again, but if it does, this old house will help me pick the pieces back up and will mend me back together, like it has done so many times before.