Over the course of the last month or so, I’ve been keeping you, lovely readers, up to date on the happenings at our house. If you haven’t kept up with the saga, I encourage you to do so now. I’ll wait.
Okay, so now that we’re all up to speed, I can finally announce some good news: we are all moved in! It took many weeks of exasperation, true moments where I was thinking nothing was ever going to get done, and some help from various places (namely both mine and E’s parents), but all of our stuff is moved in and mostly in place. This is truly something I never hope to have to experience again.
There are certainly some upsides to what went down. We have great new flooring in the downstairs and fresh, soft carpet on the stairs and in our bedroom. It gives the whole place a new feeling that seems vital given the circumstances. This place is ours, and we’ve already gotten the chance to make our own mark on it. It also increased the rate of unpacking, as after all this time with our stuff in boxes piled up in the otherwise empty house, I was rearing to get everything out of boxes and into place. Still, if all that could have happened without the lengthy delay, I would have appreciated it more.
And that leaves me with a sense of disappointment.
I know, what a strange thing to say given the fire we just walked through, especially since we came out pretty much unscathed. The disappointment stems from how worked up and worried I often found myself during the ordeal. I didn’t really allow myself to remember that I wasn’t in control of any of this, and that freaking out because we didn’t know what was going on all the time didn’t help matters. And the main reason I’m disappointed about that is because I feel like I keep having to rehash that lesson, and that I appear to be unable to actually retain the learning.
It’s ironic, really, considering I spend my professional life trying to get people to learn and develop writing and reading skills, and I get frustrated when I repeat myself and they don’t seem to ever “get it.” I can only imagine how angry I’d get if I were God, sitting up-there watching me get this same skill wrong over and over again. Yet another reason why it’s good that God is God and I am not. How fortunate are we to have a God who loves unconditionally, and although He expects growth and our moving towards maturity, He always loves us. In the middle of situations like we just walked through, where I often found myself angry and frustrated and taking that out on other people, I’m finding myself, as I stop to reflect on what happened, thankful that God doesn’t respond to me like I would if I were Him.
I’m also quite thrilled because the house is coming along nicely and starting to feel like home. It’s strange having two floors to worry about (I woke up last night in a frenzy because it suddenly occurred to me that there were lights on downstairs, and quickly went down to remedy the situation), but I really enjoy the space of it. Unlike our apartment, our house feels roomy, especially downstairs. I am also realizing that I have ideas, albeit small ones, for upgrades and continuing to make it feel like ours. Just yesterday I replaced both shower heads and hung a curtain to divide the space between L’s room and our office (all thanks to some supervisory work from my dad), and the overwhelming feeling of it all is accomplishment.
This is much better than disappointment.
Sure, I imagine homeownership is going to have its downsides, but in general I think I’m going to like the ability to make choices and, for the first time in my adult life, making a house really feel like home.