We were newlyweds when we purchased our first home—a brand new one. We must have walked through the model a million times, picturing ourselves in it. How would we decorate? What would life look like in the house that love built? Oh, the memories we would create in our own slice of heaven.
The sales office told us it was the last single-story they would release. A sweet, little one on a corner lot. “Come early,” they said. “Who knows how many people will line up to try to purchase this one.”
So we prayed and decided we would try too.
We set the alarm for 2:00 am and we drove to the building site ready to stake our claim. We’d camp in front of the sales office, lean against their door, and be first in line. That house was going to be ours! When the sales team showed up at 7:00 am on Saturday morning, we were the only ones waiting for them.
Two years later, we would bring our baby boy into that home.
He’d take his first steps in the family room and say his first words in the kitchen.
We’d celebrate birthdays, Christmases, and first days of school.
Family, friendship, and God would fill that place, our safe haven, our sweet spot.
Fifteen years later, a “sold” sign stakes the lawn and new owners are ready to create their own memories in this place that holds so many of mine—this place that holds my heart. And I’m trying not to be sad. I’m doing my best to look forward with excitement and anticipation of what is to come, of the new memories we’ll create in the new home that love will sustain.
But the truth is, my heart aches.
I stand in the kitchen with the hardware hand-picked, cabinets I chose, counters I’ve rolled cinnamon bun dough on, and I know I’m going to miss it so much. The apricot tree in the backyard is finally starting to grow and I won’t get to see its first blooms. I’m trying not to be emotional about it, but I’d be lying if I said there haven’t been a few (dozen) tears.
New beginnings can be so bittersweet.
God is reminding me that change isn’t easy, but it is good. The opportunity for a fresh start is up ahead and His hand hovers over every single detail. New memories await us and we’ll have room to spread our wings. He keeps nudging me forward, with whispers to not be scared, but to trust. He’ll provide—He is able, He is willing.
I’m trying to breathe. Trying to believe. Trying to get excited about packing up 15 years of life.
As much as every corner of this home delights my heart, the true joy is what rests within it. My people, the ones who do life beside me, they are home. The memories we’ve captured, the family we’ve created, and the deep love we’ve cultivated for one another, those things can’t be packed in a box. They can’t be left behind. They go with me.
That’s what I’m trying to remember.
This post is a link-up to the Five-Minute Friday community. An inspired and beautiful group of gifted writers who pour their heart on the page over one word prompt. Come join the Friday free-write festivities or the early bird joy on Thursdays on Twitter @ #fmfparty. For details, please visit our gracious hostess, Kate Motaung.