Home is Where The Heart Is

I am a bit ashamed to admit how much not selling our house has put a damper on an otherwise exciting time in our life. Every day I check my phone multiple times a day, hoping the real estate agent has texted saying there is a showing...because then there is a chance we could get an offer. Meanwhile, I forget that we have both been welcomed into new positions with excitement, we do have a place to rest our head during the early stages of this transition, and the kids are already enrolled in a great daycare. But the house keeps coming up as a blemish to this otherwise bright future.

The other night I really broke down about this. After the 5th person asked if we had a house in Wilmington and after the 5th explanation of, "We can't buy anything until our current house sells" (you know, trying to be financially responsible), I just started praying. I prayed that instead of the house showing how good it looked that it would instead it would emanate the love that filled its walls. I prayed that the joy of bringing home a newborn baby would be ingrained in the foundation. I hoped that many Christmases of children sitting, trying to wait patiently for the "GO!" signal on the stairs and the anticipation of the excitement would be as evident as the paint choices. I want for the prospective owners to know of the wonderful neighbors that would mow our yard when two small children were needing our attention more than our home's exterior. Or the many knocks on the door inviting us to go sledding down a fresh-coated snowy hill. Those are things that are really hard to advertise, but I pray that they will somehow convey.

I want the right person to buy our house. I want to know that it will be a place of welcome and warmth. And even though I just want it sold, I can't just be okay with my home just becoming a house for someone else. And maybe that is why they say "Home is where the heart is." Because as much as I want to be fully vested in our transition to Wilmington, I'm fixated on this home. As we pack, the realization of our departure becomes more evident. And maybe that's why I dragged my feet right up to the point of not doing the packing. And I left that for my husband to do as our kids and I traveled for the days before we all move to North Carolina. I'm having a difficult time separating from this structure. We have been so blessed by this place and I have put so much of myself into revitalizing a  1980s decor to a more modern version.

And some point soon, we will pull out of the driveway one last time, close the garage door (just as we have a thousand times before), and close another wonderful chapter of our lives. That makes me sad because right now, we don't have the next chapter fully opened in front of us. We will be without a home, and that is actually harde r than being houseless.  But I know that we will be together and okay and that this time that seems so drawn out and never-ending will end. We have been so lucky in our big blue house on the hill and a little part of my heart will be left behind in Chattanooga because of our home.