and then later you realize they were big things.
I got a phone call last night and someone is coming
to look at the house on Thursday.
Chances are, our house will be on the market for several months, but there is also a chance that phone call
may change our entire life...
Our plan for many years now has been to settle at the cabin.
(I call it Final Roots.)
We are at the point that we don't need extra bedrooms,
or a yard to show off.
Our mind is set on a huge garden,
bird houses, chickens, tranquility
and a cozy little home.
A place where we can rock on the porch,
ride 4-wheelers in the creek,
and see millions of stars in the night sky.
I see it as a place where I can set up an easel and paint-
or have a work table full of smooth gourds
ready to be explored -
or stained glass pieces wanting to be assembled
into a window for the kitchen.
I can also see my husband in his overalls and cap
welding a metal gate for the path,
carving a cypress branch into a walking stick,
and tinkering on everything and nothing
like men sometimes do.
Don't get me wrong.
I love this house...
I remember the first time I saw it.
It was small, and baby blue
and the yard hadn't been mowed all season.
There was a Harley-Davidson sticker
on the kitchen door,
a pile of metal in the fence row
and a grove of pine trees that showed signs of decay.
It wasn't even for sale.
But I prayed.
We needed a home where the kids could go
to the only school they had ever known.
We needed a yard.
A place to call our own.
For almost two years we had lived in
the back of my husband's plumbing shop/laundromat.
I hated it.
But, as with most things, I hated it with a smile-
and tried to make the best of it.
The first time I walked through the yard at this house,
I knew in my heart that this is where I was going to live.
My husband convinced the owner to sell,
we convinced the bank to give us a loan,
forced demanded asked the kids to help fix it up.
I remember it being so cold while we renovated
that my coffee froze in the cup,
my daughter Becca fell through the bathroom floor,
and it took days and days to strip the place
down to the studs.
The kids were actually good sports.
They learned to use drills, hammers, pry bars
and (to their advantage) -bathroom breaks.
They buttered foundation blocks, mixed mortar,
fetched wires, carried insulation, rolled paint
and sanded drywall.
We were quite a team.
And, with all of us pitching in-
we made a dream come true.
But the kids are all out of the nest now.
Their bedrooms are empty of school awards,
favorite pillows and photos of friends.
There are no dirty tennis shoes on the floor,
wrinkled clothes in the corners,
or late night phone chats that drift down the hallway.
During the day, it's just me and the dog.
At night, it's me and my husband and the dog and the TV.
And empty rooms that never get used
except for an occasional overnight guest.
This is the sort of house that needs to be filled with laughter
and slumber parties and jelly on the kitchen chairs.
This yard needs to be busy with baited fishing hooks,
the thump of basketballs,
the joy of capturing fireflies...
The house needs a new family to love.
And I hope it finds one...
I've learned that simple little things
can become big things when you pray...
But I also know that the plans you have for yourself
are sometimes not the plans that God has for you.
You just gotta hold on and have faith.
And enjoy every minute of the journey...