Four years ago today...
We set out from Norwalk, Connecticut, for Charlotte, North Carolina.
I vacuumed my house one last time.
Walked its empty rooms.
Gave thanks for all the joys we had shared there and
blessed each room for its future occupants.
And I wept.
Five years of abundant living had come to an end,
and we were on our way to an entirely new life,
a life brimming with abundance we had
never known or imagined would ever be ours to enjoy.
Five years at 145 North Seir Hill Road in Norwalk.
The white raised ranch on the corner of Grey Hollow Road.
The house with the ice-water swimming pool and expansive lawn.
The house with the magnificent old trees that provided us with deep shade in the summer and inundated us with deep piles of colorful leaves in the fall.
The house with the wood-burning fireplace and the cool tile floor in the basement. The house with its pantry in the basement and kitchen on the upper floor.
The house with the well and its salt crystal water purification system.
The house where Daniel learned to walk and play baseball.
The house where Kristiana learned to read and play basketball.
The house were we had Bible studies and pool parties, dinners and Easter egg hunts, noisy birthday parties and quiet Christmas mornings.
The house where the homeschooling adventure began.
The house where I learned how to use the internet and how to reboot my computer after viruses had taken over.
Five years flew by in that house. And I am grateful for every minute.
Four years ago today, our life in that house ended.
Four years ago tomorrow, our life in this house began.
How these years have flown.
This house that surpasses all my house-related dreams with its brick exterior, its dark hardwood floors downstairs and cozy carpet upstairs, its kitchen island, built-in cabinets, and its many light- and air- welcoming windows.
This house with its squeaks, leaks, cracks, and crevices.
This house that protects our lives, our dreams, our dog, our books, and so much more.
This house where I take my life into my hands every time I have to relight the gas-powered water heater. (When will somebody invent a gas water heater that doesn't need to be lit by human hands???)
This house where I have learned to blog and have made friends that I know only because of the internet.
This house where I have begun to scrapbook.
This house where my daughter is blossoming into a beautiful teenage girl and
my son is becoming the kind of young man I am proud to call my own.
This house from which I am moving out into the world as a motivational speaker and retreat leader.
This house where we have lived, loved, argued, made up, welcomed friends, and banned bugs.
This house of dreams.
This house of belonging.
This house that is a home to a family I know and love
and to a future I don't yet know but excitedly anticipate.
For each day,
with its blessings and blunders,
with its cheerfulness and challenges,
with its delights and disappointments,
with its grace and grumbling,
with its laughter and laments,
with its lessons and losses,
with all that I am and all that I have,
I give thanks.
Thank you to all of you who knew me before this Charlotte adventure began, those who wished me well on my journey, and those who have traveled with me in body, mind, and spirit every step of the way. Thank you to all of you, my internet/blog/virtual world friends, not only those who read my rantings and then write to me, call me, encourage me, pray for me, but also to those of you who read this blog but do none of the above. Thank you for walking this pilgrim pathway for these two years that I've been blogging. Please journey on with me.
Grace, peace, and mercy be yours.
Today and forever.
Or at the very least for
four more years...
four more years...
Speaking of which - To the American citizens in the crowd: Don't forget to vote!