The Things You Do For Love

A week from now, we will be living at The Pokeaway. I feel good about it. It has been a lengthy year with more twists than a balloon animal. Even though we are moving long before the house is 'ready', there is a sense that we will soon be coming 'home'.
It started with a trip with the real estate agent to look at potential homes - one of them was the one I refer to lovingly as the 'head- basher' house. It left quite an impression on me - literally and figuratively. Even today, I can put my hand up to my head and feel the indentation where the that beam dug into my scalp.

Then it was roller-coaster ride to finish up the details to seal the deal on the place we had chosen to buy.
At times it didn't look as it we would be able to, but in the end, we pulled through [Praise the Lord, and pass the ammunition].
Following that, we began a waiting game to get into the house to assess what needed to be done.


Meantime, my designer husband worked up some plans for changes. He added wonderful details, and I smiled and nodded, not realizing what it all meant. "Front porch?! Great idea! " "Walk in closet? Love it!"

I still didn't understand, what the strokes of his designer pen meant, even when he began to direct all the ripping and tearing.

It seemed every time I arrived, more was coming out. Rooms were stripped bare. Ceilings came down. Flooring ripped up. Studs were taken out. I thought that was the end.

And then the roof came off.
For several months, I counted the raindrops falling into to a roof-less house.


Then the door came out and another was cut in, and the windows were removed.

I remember arriving one day, and another part of the house was gone, and I said to myself "Every time I think there can't be anything more to pull out, I am wrong".

For me, this year has been one long lesson in what it means to let go. By no means have I conquered this. I still have sleepless moments where I am overwhelmed by what we have taken on. But I have begun again to whisper to myself, what I know to be true. "My changing circumstances do not change who God is". "You can cast the weight of your anxiety on Him, because He cares about you". "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want". "Do not worry, saying "What shall we eat, or what shall we wear?"

As my mother used to say, "Worry is like sitting in a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it goes nowhere." I'm learning the value of celebrating the small gains. I sometimes wander around the property murmuring "And gain is gain, no matter how small". Because, if you stick with it long enough, the roof goes on, the windows get replaced, and the siding guy shows up.


and eventually, the clean up becomes about more than ripped out insulation. And given enough time, the design comes to life.