Today was a BIG day for us.
So big, in fact, that we decided to hit Burger King in desperation celebration.
Wasn’t quite the date we had planned for this exciting occasion, but hey.
{this sad fact brought to you by our desperate need for babysitters in our new area}
You see…we’ve been living in a home that isn’t ours.
{After having lived in my parent’s home for 11 months, which too, wasn’t ours}
Then we fell in love.
With this sweet house.
On it’s glorious 3.6 acres.
After putting an offer on it…on February 1st, 1978 {year slightly exaggerated},
we had to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Then…oh, happy day…
Our offer was accepted. A closing date scheduled.
Storage unit drop-off was scheduled and a moving/painting crew was in place.
All was right with the world.
But the day before we were set to close – and move – the bank postponed closing.
“Someone” had not signed on a line “somewhere”.
Or something.
We were devastated, frustrated, disappointed.
And yet…
we had a peace that passed all understanding.
With our hearts set on this home – after 2 others falling through – and an offer from the sellers to go ahead with moving in…we stepped out.
In complete and utter blind faith.
To live – yet again – in a home that wasn’t ours.
We did what any reckless, foolish faith-filled, hopeful couple would do.
We accepted their kind offer to move in during the waiting phase…and hesitantly began to make it our own.
We did it quietly. No whoopin’ and hollering…no celebrating the beautiful new place we’d quasi-acquired…not quite wanting to hear the response we expected:
“what? you moved in before you closed? are you crazy?”
Well, Yes.
Yes we are.
Thank you.
So we proceeded to paint walls that weren’t ours.
And plant vegetables in soil that wasn’t ours.
And hang pictures in rooms that didn’t belong to us.
And install light fixtures into ceilings and appliances into rooms that might not have housed them for long.
Allowing our children to run around starkers and pee in someone else’s grass.
And generally make ourselves at home in a space that hung in the balance.
They were all chances we took.
Knowing.
Praying.
Trusting.
That this lovely house – that we knew God had kept just for us {after having been on the market for over a year} – would one day belong to us.
Today was that day.
At 4:23pm, we signed the enormous stack of papers that declared this property our own.
We knew it.
We just had to wait 6 months for the bank to realize it.
{short sale my butt}
And in the mean time…passionately at work behind the scenes…God has given us 2.5 months of free rent…enough to cover half of the loss from our storage unit palava.
We’re home.
As I worked magic on my Fly Lady routine tonight {gotta love waking up to a clean kitchen and a shiny sink…despite the intense need for coffee after staying up later than desired}, with the 3 loves of my life fast asleep, I couldn’t help but smile.
Scraping dried spaghetti sauce off little polka dot plates was that much sweeter today.
The gorgeous oak trim I get to stare at {surrounding our lovely view of the neighboring lake}…that trim…that’s all mine, ladies!
And those windows? They’re mine too. The walls…the floors…the ceiling.
Finally ours.
It’s a beautiful thing.
I can here Ty’s voice now…
“Welcome home, McMillan family…welcome home”.
