Moving On

For the past 10 months we've been trying to sell our house. We've already moved on to our next home, so it has been sitting vacant, waiting on the next family who will give life to it. To be honest, these months of limbo have been incredibly difficult. It's felt like being without a country. That's not home any longer, but neither is this one.

So, finally, thankfully, we've sold our house. And we closed on it today...and it's hard. Yes, we are so happy that it has sold and we can finally move on and put down roots in this house. We can begin the work of making this house our home. But we called the house on Eagle Creek Lane home for 10 years. That's a long time. That's a lot of life.

Today I went by the house to say my final farewell. I walked through the empty rooms, took in the nuances of each room where we made our mark (in one, it looked like stains of baby food on the ceiling; in another, it was the indentation of Reed's head on the wall. Ouch!). I stood in the laundry room and absorbed the measuring stick drawn on the doorframe, marking the boys' height from year to year. Soon, a new family would cover these milestones with a coat of fresh paint.

We came to this home when Reed was only 12 weeks old. It is, of course, the only house he remembers. And it was a good house, an excellent home. We lived a good life here and loved each other well here. We are thankful for its shelter, its comforts, and the frame it provided for 10 years of our story.

When I walked into the closing, I was filled with emotion. It felt like I was turning over a treasure to someone unlikely to appreciate its worth. Then, something precious happened. A gift, really, to my heart. The new family walked in...parents followed by two lovely little girls.

I felt a shift in my spirit, and I smiled, thinking of this house that had seen so much "boy" over the past 10 years...sword fights and light saber duels, Legos and trains, knights and dragons...begin blessed with a taste of "girl." Tea parties and Barbies, dollhouses and dress up. It was a good home for raising boys. It will be a good home for raising girls.

So, I release that house with a word of thanks and a blessing to the new family. May you experience the same life and love within its walls that we did. And may we always remember this life and love as clearly as I will recall that measuring stick on the laundry room door.