The. House. SOLD.
I don’t even know what to do with myself. It sold not even 24 hours after the realtor entered our doorway. I can’t even.
I took the kids to the mall on Friday, the day we had the showing, with my in-laws Bob and Kathy. (Although just for the record, the showing was so casual that the buyer said he wouldn’t care if we were still there.) So after eating food court lunch, playing on the coin rides with the kids, and window shopping sparkly gown dresses, Bobby finally called me to tell me about the showing, and, yes, the very generous offer. I hung up the phone and freaked. My in-laws and I gasped. We all were stunned. The deal was done, and quite frankly so were my kids with the mall. As we started strapping strollers and grabbing tots’ hands, Bob said, “You know? When you get home, and get the kids in naps, you are going to just sit down and say, ‘What just happened?!”
I’m pretty sure that is exactly how I would describe these past four days. What just happened!? What is happening?!
Driving home from the mall was a memory I don’t think I will ever forget. It was snowing, icy, freezing, and slick. The kids were exhausted, so I played one of Bobby’s piano albums that he wrote for Lois, to calm them and promote sleep. Think: soft, sentimental, lullaby music—the prettiest and dreamiest your ears could imagine. As the kids snoozed off to dreamland, and I drove slower than a turtle ice skating, I had the perfect stage setting for memory lane. Flakes of snow floated on my windshield as memories fuzzed hazily before my eyes. That music, coupled with the shocking, happy news, and three peaceful love-bugs in the back, plus a no-rush, take-your-time, watch-the-roads drive, equaled some of the most intense emotions I’ve ever experienced.
My memories started with the very first time we entered the Shawnee Road house. I remember our excitement of looking it over, contemplating the purchase, and sealing the deal at 10pm. Oh, the fun of being newly married and buying your very first home! I remembered bringing each one of our babies home and nestling them in our arms at all hours of the night, in all rooms of the house. I went through all the people we had over at our house for birthday parties, care group, church events, baby showers, play dates, coffee hangs, mentoring, Bible study, and just everything and everybody. Oh, how many friends we have loved knowing in our little living space. My mind kept realing and sifting through all the joys, hardships, fun, adventures, and all the moments in between. I kinda decided to let myself just soak in the sentiments, and told myself this was probably the most emotional I will be for the house. It’s okay to just milk it. And sometimes it’s good to cry, because, for some reason or another, caring deeply about something makes you human.
When I got home, Bobby was waiting, wide-eyed and expectant. There was nothing left to do but bury the last of my emotional episode in the arms of the one who was with me for it all! How I love my man!
The drive ended, and so too, did my quiet contemplation and sappy memories. Life moves on! We of course had to have some kind of celebration. Then the next day was my birthday. Then it was Valentines day. And then we started cranking things into action.
And now I’m here. Trying to take it all in. I told Bobby that God has been so gracious to us in letting us move toward seminary, one slow step at a time. We have had the luxury to process, reflect, pray and just breathe. But, on the other hand, I guess sometimes big changes are better fast and quick, and it’s another kind of luxury when you don’t have time to process or even breathe! The band aid ripped quickly can be nice too. But our band aid… is ever so gently being pulled off, one little hair follicle at a time.
Okay, that’s kinda a gross metaphor…
Anyway, our plan is to move into Bobby’s parents by March 28th (Thank you, thank you Bob and Kathy! You’re angels!) because we aren’t going to Minnesota three months early, and our buyer wants the house by April 1st. Soooooo, our “stopping and smelling the flowers” has instantaneously turned into “stuff all the flowers in a box or else get rid of them.” Sorting, organizing, and making mountains of donations has consumed my week… and it’s only Tuesday. I’m kind of glad the temperature is below zero because I have an excuse to board myself up and make the to-do list happen!
But yet, there is still life here that I don’t want to choke out amidst the chaos. My instant reaction is to, “Conquer today’s to-do list, and while I’m at it, defeat tomorrow’s too!” (And maybe even some of next week’s, cuz I’m on a roll!) But my heart’s reaction is to just stop everything and soak in as much of my Papillion life and Papillion friends as I can before we pass the keys to Mr. New Shawnee Road Owner. My heart, mind, and schedule are all over the place, people.
Also, I’m just throwing it out there—it’s pretty weird living in our home, knowing it’s not really ours anymore. I mean, we do still technically own the deed—and offers can fall through, I know—but it’s still weird. Just yesterday Waldo was wheeling around on a dump truck, and I freaked out a little because I didn’t want him to dent the refrigerator, “This isn’t our house anymore! We have to keep it nice!” The words were weird in my mind, and even weirder out of my mouth.
I think we are entering a season of homelessness. And now that I think about it, God’s people have notoriously been homeless, so we are in good company. And really, “Our house wasn’t really ever ours to begin with,” Bobby said, “the bank owns it.” And I replied, “No! God owns it!” Bobby gave me a thumbs up and said I was a good Seminary Wife, to which I smiled my nerdy Bible smile.
But for real. God does own everything, and that’s the most freeing and awesome truth ever, in such a time as this. Any SOLD sign only goes so far for us little finite humans. Truth be told, we own nothing, and God owns it all!