The House That Is Our Home

Tonight we moved.

We took all of our valuable possessions, packed them into a storage unit and took a step into the unknown darkness. We don't yet know if the numbers from the bank are going to line up, we don't have a closing date on our new house, but we are closing on this beast on Monday, and out we had to go.

This was quite difficult for me; it was a day of emotions and physical exertion and rain. Lots of rain. This house has become part of our home, and an important part at that, and as we slowly dismantled it without another to take its place yet, it felt like I was leaving a part of myself behind. This house is our first family house, and not just for our little family. Every single adult member of this family (except Patrick—sorry, Patrick!) has not only been through this house, stayed a while, and laughed into the wee hours with us, but every single one of you has helped it to become what it is. 

Justin and Jodi helped us move in on that first day when Jodi was expecting Jaime and wanted nothing more than to be with her husband whom she so kindly loaned us for the move. Jodi, I think you were pregnant both times you visited us. Hmmm. . .   Joe and Heather were there too, and they came back just a couple weeks later to help us do some projects and get our school room together. Michelle and Bryce made the trip out when it was time to redo the kitchen, and they spent days with us eating on the patio and nights trying to figure out how to get the mud to dry faster. Michelle wasn't so helpful (pregnant!) but Bryce performed a small miracle when he prayed to know how to get the mud to dry faster in our high humidity. The answer? Thin it down. Dad showed up for one late night at the end of that week to help us put in that beast of a sink and assemble the cabinets. We all ate pizza together some time after midnight that night. Mom has helped me decorate, and Marquie has baked by my side (Chocolate Chubbies, anyone?) and now all the hard work, all of the creativity, and all of the love that was poured into this home has run its course and performed its function as far as the house is concerned.

For us, however, all of those things live still, because we have laughed and cried and screamed and eaten and built and painted and patched and floored and mudded and stripped and framed and gardened and sewed and debated and created. Those things are the things that make a family, and when that family does those things together in a house, then that house becomes a home. It is with heavy heart that we bid farewell to the home that we share with all of you, and it is with sadness that we acknowledge that we may never have the chance to do it just like that again. Perhaps that's how life works, though, to have each special experience just once so that it will remain special and unique. 

We hope that soon we will have great news and progress to share about our new home in progress. Even more, though, we hope that soon we will have all of you in our home again to strengthen, teach, eat, laugh, scream, and cry together. It will be a glorious day.