It's been 25 years since I left my childhood home.
Large windows, green shutters with matching flower boxes, white stately columns out front. Rhododendrons, pink dogwood tree, doorknobs that looked like diamonds, and wallpaper that was patterned like a cowboy's red bandana.
A beautiful Craftsman style house built in 1908... long before my time.
Home.
The place I was brought as a newborn, where I learned to crawl, to walk, to roller skate.
I skinned my knees on the sidewalk out front for the very first time.
I learned to ride my bike on that street, ground the bricks that were crumbling along a neighbors driveway for blush with a mariposa blossom as my applicator, befriended elderly artists and made pottery in their hidden studio.
I remember the munchkin sized door under the stairs that led to storage in reality, but I had dreams of another land under those stairs.... if only I could have found the key.
I can see my sister standing at the top of the long staircase with her purple eyeshadow and Farrah Fawcett hair. Her smile was perfect to me and her eyes more beautiful than Bambi's.
I knew every board that made up our fence, every knot hole that was my height at any given year that I could peer through into the massive garden behind us.
The memories are more good than bad now that 25 years have gone by. I don't think there's been a single day that I haven't missed it in one way or another.
We called it 'The Big House'.
In the last quarter of a century I have lived more places than I care to remember, some I actually think I have completely forgotten. (Thank you Lord.) But I do know that I haven't had the same adress for more than a few years a time in all those years.
I adopted a gypsy mentality out of necessity after bouncing from place to place more than a handful of times. I made it a sort of adventure and purposed to not become attatched to any one place knowing the pain that would come if I allowed myself to grow roots only to have to rip them out again.
It was effective for years. A tried and true survival technique.
But ya know what?
It got lonely.
I made friends, got involved at churches, my kids made friends, we started to know our neighbors, grow a garden, learn where all the best places to walk or ride our bikes were.... and then we'd have to leave.
I didn't have much control, if any, over so many of those moves. It was painful watching my kids have to endure the jostling for no real good reason.
And then there was the move in 2011 when my new husband Rick and I lost our home in California after the market crash in 2009.
Rick and I had talked about all of this jostling and unstable circumstances before we married in '09. We both had a deep desire to have roots somewhere and allow the last 3 kids in our care to have a permanent place they could call home, so when we realized we were not going to be able to keep the home we were in it was a real step of faith moving from California to Washington State.
We clearly heard the call of God on us to move here. We both had peace for sure, but we had NO IDEA how all of it would work. We knew we were losing our home, and any potential equity in it, we knew that we would have to relocate Rick's buisness, and we knew we needed to have a home in Washington within ten months of our moving there.
Can I just say that THE LORD BLEW THE DOORS OFF?
We have known that the house we have been living in is nothing short of a miracle. It's a long story, but just so I don't kill you with curiosity:
1. We prayed and asked God to show us where He wanted us.
2. My husband felt led to a particular home.
3. I repeatedly reminded him that this wasn't a rental, that it was for sale, and it was a REALLY nice home that was probably out of our price range even if it were for rent.
4. My husband contacted the realtor anyway. (I love this man.)
5. We wrote a letter explaining our entire situation to the owners.
6. Our 13 year old son went in for a five and a half hour heart surgery the day after we mailed the letter.
7. I promptly forgot the letter AND the house.
8. The owners contacted the realtor and wanted to work with us based on the letter.
9. I wept like a baby IN PUBLIC when we got that news.
10. Without references, financial records, or any other proof of who we are, a deal was struck for us to be in a lease/purchase agreement at a rate that is truly unbelievable.
11. We have lived here for the last two and a half years.
12. It has become Home.
Okay, now that that's out of the way...
The agreement was more than fair, and both parties have honored it.We based our timing on our anticipated income, which was based on an established pattern that stretched over more than a decade.
But things don't always go the way we anticipate do they?
Relocating a buisness is hard. Establishing a client base is hard. Making a name for yourself in a new area is hard.
The last year and a half have been some of the hardest my husband has ever seen professionally. It's been tough to say the least. But he keeps his hand to the 'plow' and isn't a quitter, he will succeed. I know it. He's one of the most talented people I have ever known, and he's great with people.
It just takes time.
But now we are up against a serious challenge: our agreement is up in 90 days. We have until the end of November to secure a loan for the balance of the purchase price of our home.
For a several reasons, that will take a miracle.
I believe in miracles...
Everytime I see my son running down the field, his frame loaded with gear, jumping to catch a football... the same son who had the cardiac surgery that wasn't successful... I see a miracle.
When I look at my grandson and see the smiles on his teenaged mom and dad's face even though they are facing hard times themselves, I see a miracle.
When I see my father-in-love pull up and park in our driveway for a family dinner after having had hemorrhages in his eyes that were supposed to leave him unable to see, I see a miracle.
Truth be told, everytime I look at any of my children, at my father, at my husband... when I look in the mirror, I see a miracle.
I know that the Lord led us here, there is no doubt about it. Only He could do what has been done here.
It's the first place in these many years that has truly felt like home to me. Our home.
My prayer is that we could stay.
He knows the details, and I trust His will for sure.
But He says to 'come boldly before the throne', so I'm coming...
...come with me?
2 Sam 7:11b
"The Lord Himself will establish a house for you..."
Large windows, green shutters with matching flower boxes, white stately columns out front. Rhododendrons, pink dogwood tree, doorknobs that looked like diamonds, and wallpaper that was patterned like a cowboy's red bandana.
A beautiful Craftsman style house built in 1908... long before my time.
Home.
The place I was brought as a newborn, where I learned to crawl, to walk, to roller skate.
I skinned my knees on the sidewalk out front for the very first time.
I learned to ride my bike on that street, ground the bricks that were crumbling along a neighbors driveway for blush with a mariposa blossom as my applicator, befriended elderly artists and made pottery in their hidden studio.
I remember the munchkin sized door under the stairs that led to storage in reality, but I had dreams of another land under those stairs.... if only I could have found the key.
I can see my sister standing at the top of the long staircase with her purple eyeshadow and Farrah Fawcett hair. Her smile was perfect to me and her eyes more beautiful than Bambi's.
I knew every board that made up our fence, every knot hole that was my height at any given year that I could peer through into the massive garden behind us.
The memories are more good than bad now that 25 years have gone by. I don't think there's been a single day that I haven't missed it in one way or another.
We called it 'The Big House'.
In the last quarter of a century I have lived more places than I care to remember, some I actually think I have completely forgotten. (Thank you Lord.) But I do know that I haven't had the same adress for more than a few years a time in all those years.
I adopted a gypsy mentality out of necessity after bouncing from place to place more than a handful of times. I made it a sort of adventure and purposed to not become attatched to any one place knowing the pain that would come if I allowed myself to grow roots only to have to rip them out again.
It was effective for years. A tried and true survival technique.
But ya know what?
It got lonely.
I made friends, got involved at churches, my kids made friends, we started to know our neighbors, grow a garden, learn where all the best places to walk or ride our bikes were.... and then we'd have to leave.
I didn't have much control, if any, over so many of those moves. It was painful watching my kids have to endure the jostling for no real good reason.
And then there was the move in 2011 when my new husband Rick and I lost our home in California after the market crash in 2009.
Rick and I had talked about all of this jostling and unstable circumstances before we married in '09. We both had a deep desire to have roots somewhere and allow the last 3 kids in our care to have a permanent place they could call home, so when we realized we were not going to be able to keep the home we were in it was a real step of faith moving from California to Washington State.
We clearly heard the call of God on us to move here. We both had peace for sure, but we had NO IDEA how all of it would work. We knew we were losing our home, and any potential equity in it, we knew that we would have to relocate Rick's buisness, and we knew we needed to have a home in Washington within ten months of our moving there.
Can I just say that THE LORD BLEW THE DOORS OFF?
We have known that the house we have been living in is nothing short of a miracle. It's a long story, but just so I don't kill you with curiosity:
1. We prayed and asked God to show us where He wanted us.
2. My husband felt led to a particular home.
3. I repeatedly reminded him that this wasn't a rental, that it was for sale, and it was a REALLY nice home that was probably out of our price range even if it were for rent.
4. My husband contacted the realtor anyway. (I love this man.)
5. We wrote a letter explaining our entire situation to the owners.
6. Our 13 year old son went in for a five and a half hour heart surgery the day after we mailed the letter.
7. I promptly forgot the letter AND the house.
8. The owners contacted the realtor and wanted to work with us based on the letter.
9. I wept like a baby IN PUBLIC when we got that news.
10. Without references, financial records, or any other proof of who we are, a deal was struck for us to be in a lease/purchase agreement at a rate that is truly unbelievable.
11. We have lived here for the last two and a half years.
12. It has become Home.
Okay, now that that's out of the way...
The agreement was more than fair, and both parties have honored it.We based our timing on our anticipated income, which was based on an established pattern that stretched over more than a decade.
But things don't always go the way we anticipate do they?
Relocating a buisness is hard. Establishing a client base is hard. Making a name for yourself in a new area is hard.
The last year and a half have been some of the hardest my husband has ever seen professionally. It's been tough to say the least. But he keeps his hand to the 'plow' and isn't a quitter, he will succeed. I know it. He's one of the most talented people I have ever known, and he's great with people.
It just takes time.
But now we are up against a serious challenge: our agreement is up in 90 days. We have until the end of November to secure a loan for the balance of the purchase price of our home.
For a several reasons, that will take a miracle.
I believe in miracles...
Everytime I see my son running down the field, his frame loaded with gear, jumping to catch a football... the same son who had the cardiac surgery that wasn't successful... I see a miracle.
When I look at my grandson and see the smiles on his teenaged mom and dad's face even though they are facing hard times themselves, I see a miracle.
When I see my father-in-love pull up and park in our driveway for a family dinner after having had hemorrhages in his eyes that were supposed to leave him unable to see, I see a miracle.
Truth be told, everytime I look at any of my children, at my father, at my husband... when I look in the mirror, I see a miracle.
I know that the Lord led us here, there is no doubt about it. Only He could do what has been done here.
It's the first place in these many years that has truly felt like home to me. Our home.
My prayer is that we could stay.
He knows the details, and I trust His will for sure.
But He says to 'come boldly before the throne', so I'm coming...
...come with me?
2 Sam 7:11b
"The Lord Himself will establish a house for you..."
No comments:
Post a Comment