Living One Day at a Time
Our home has been for sale for six months. I guess you could say that. For five months, we had tried to sell it ourselves - a very lofty idea, but to no avail. We have a great three bedroom, one bath house. It is 1,000 square feet, and has been a grrrrreeeeaaaaattt starter home. My husband had bought it as we first met each other, so I have often caught myself nagging about the house, the one bathroom, and the lack of storage space. We have remodeled, redecorated, and rearranged more times than I can recall. We have been here for five years now, and it has been a love-hate relationship.I say that in every sense of that phrase - just like the song - I have truly loved to hate it. It has been fun to be the one that can always “one-up” people on how truly awful their living conditions were. People would complain that they wanted to sell their house because they needed 2 and a HALF bathrooms, not the mere TWO that they had. I always chimed in…. “At least you have TWO!” They would complain about their neighbors barking dog and I would chime in…. Our neighbor has two potties and his son living in a van in the driveway (yes, potties, as in toilets). And I, always the melodramatic princess type, truly felt that at times I was being punished (no, I’m really serious, two toilets), as if I had been sent off to some remote desert island, as a castaway, being punished for something I had done in my past. As if God were saying “Jenny, you horrible person, for all of your sins, I banish you to 302 OakRidge, to live with one bathroom…. FOR ALL ETERNITY!!!!”
After moving in, we re-did the kitchen. Moved the sink, moved the cabinets, really opened it up. We changed out the carpet when I found out I was pregnant with Gracyn, and did some creative rearranging of furniture and had several garage sales to remove the clutter to make room for baby. After she got here, we decided to sell. That didn’t work out, and we cancelled the contract with the used car salesman of a real estate agent that we had selected and decided to tough it out. The day we found out we were pregnant with Whitley, we decided it would probably be time to try it again. Then we changed our minds. Let’s add on, we thought.
After the architect left the house for the initial meeting, and the bid in the upper $40’s (thousands) we decided that we would never get our money back, and thought about selling again. Whitley arrived, Gracyn had her tonsils out, Christmas came and went, Valentines Day, birthday parties, and wow….. now we are in May! We put it on the market about a month ago…. And we finally have our first offer.
I have prayed and thought about this very day for so very long, I have built it up in my mind, that I do have to say that I felt like a popped balloon when she told us that the offer was $87,000. We are asking $95,000 for our house, and I was a little sad. As I reflected, and came across a verse today in my quiet time, I realized something. Over all of the years of nagging and harping about this “horrible” house, that there were very few times that I asked that God’s will be done about this house. That I went ahead like a bulldozer and remodeled or repainted, as if doing those things were going to make me happy here. When I sat back and reflected last night, I realized that this house has helped me to grow closer to God. It is within these walls that I have taken shelter and have leaned on God when I thought that I could not bear one more day inside of them.
I realized that even though this is a small house, that God is not a small God! In my immaturity, I have believed in God for this house to be removed from us, as if it were some huge burden that we had to carry around. And would get mad at Him, my husband, or anyone else who stood in the way of trying to sell it. As I gazed down at the floor, as we signed the counter-offer, I thought about all of the back-breaking work that my husband and I had spent laying each tile. As I walked around the house that night, tidying up for the next day, I gazed at each room, the paint, the carpet, and as I walked back into the kitchen, my thoughts shifted to certain memories - not of materials things or the time spent changing this house, but to the people, the memories, and the laughter that has been shared within the walls. I remembered the six months or so at the beginning of our relationship when we had a good friend live with us. I reflected on the wild and crazy party that we had after we first moved in, and how the cars lined up and down the street probably drove our new neighbors crazy. I remember bringing our children home from the hospital, the meals in the kitchen, the time that our oven caught on fire when we had a big crowd of family and friends over for a birthday party. And then I walked out to the back porch.
The first memory that came to my mind was the backyard gathering that we had a couple of summers ago. We had some people over from a christian youth group, and the plan was to invite all of the neighborhood kids over so that we could play games and try and witness to them. We only had about three kids show up, but Nathan ended up getting saved that day.
I don’t even know how many times I had begged my husband to please call an agent so that we can sell. And I don’t even know how many times I have made fun of how he must have been crazy to ever buy a house like this, that it is definetley a “bachelor” pad, that he just doesn’t want to sell it because he is so emotionally attached to it. Then the thought hit me, I’m just as attached. This house had stopped being ‘his’ first bachelor pad house, and had become ‘our first home’ a long time ago. Oh my goodness gracious, I was just as attached to it as he was!!!
I guess my husband had been watching me kinda walk around and he came up behind me to give me a hug. A few tears streamed down my cheeks, and he just hugged me, as if he totally understood me. In all of the years of griping and nagging, God has had a purpose for us in this house, and I only pray that despite my foolish attempts to make my own plans, that God’s will has indeed been done.
We don’t know if the buyer will accept the counter offer or not, but we have decided to sell/lease the house. So whichever happens first, that’s what we will go with. It has been a long road and for sure, a love hate relationship. I know one thing for sure, although we are not sure what lies ahead for us, we do know for sure that God is there!
”Behold, the Lord they God hath set the land before thee: go up and possess it, as the Lord God of they fathers hath said unto thee: fear not, neither be discouraged” Deut.1:21
Lord, I pray that you help us to not fear what the future holds for us. I pray that although we are often under pressure, hurried, frustrated, worried, or uncertain, that we lift up our plans to you and ask that you guide our way. I ask that when we get discouraged, that you help us make a decision to adjust, to just keep going, despite my feelings. Lord, I thank you for my house and the bountiful amount of memories that we will take away with it. Lord, I thank you that you have not at all punished us with this house, that you have used it as a shelter and a sanctuary of peace to grow closer to You! I ask for peace and wisdom in any decision making that we will have to do on behalf of our family. We will have a lot of choices to make in the future, and I pray that you will guide us and open doors where You want us to go and close them where You don’t. Lord above anything, help us to remember that you are with us and that in having faith in You, the eternal Prince of Peace, that you will lead us to peace and joy no matter where we are, and that no matter what kind of house we have, that as long as You are there, it will be our HOME!
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