HOME SWEET HOME

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO ME! Y’all, I’m right at my 3-year anniversary of purchasing, and living in, my house. This is a record-breaking living situation for me. I haven’t lived in one place for 3+ years since I was in junior high (read “Calgon Take Me Away), so this is a really special milestone for me. Granted I have changed jobs twice in those three years, but that for sure won’t keep me from celebrating!

I had a mild panic attack at the closing. My lovely realtor, the bank lady (her official title; keepin’ it professional, per usual), and I were sitting around a table with all the paperwork to make this home officially mine. I started to cry as I signed my name to what seemed like thousands of papers. The ladies looked at me saying, “Aww, we know this is exciting! We’re happy for you purchasing your first home!” I looked at them, and through the tears, explained these were not excited tears, these are “oh my gosh, what the hell am I doing?!” tears. Waves of fear of committing myself to one place for at least X amount of years (as is required before bolting) rushed over me. I honestly wanted to vomit and flee…not necessarily in that order.


I didn’t though. I stayed, signed the papers, and received the keys to my first house. I freakin’ bought a house. I OWN a house! It’s still hard to wrap my head around. Seriously. One evening, just a couple weeks ago, I was sitting on my couch in the living room watching a movie. The movie ended, and all was quiet and peaceful. Finding myself in a contemplative mood, I looked around the room and was struck with thankfulness and awe. “I live here. I freakin’ OWN this house! This is mine. And I love it,” I thought.

I wasn’t afraid or anxious. I didn’t feel overwhelmed by the responsibility or permanence of the big life choice I had made. I was thankful. Thankful to have a space where I feel completely at home, comfortable and safe. Thankful for the provision afforded to me that I may have such a space.

I love my house. It’s cozy and cute, the perfect size. It yells at me occasionally, like a petulant child, via a burst pipe, temperamental water heater, or broken oven. And, annoyingly, that grass (ahem, weeds) in the yard just keeps growing needing to be tamed, which is my least favorite part of home-ownership (thankfully I have a wonderful friend and neighbor who likes to mow). Regardless, it’s mine, and I’m committed to making it not only a place of refuge for me but also a warm, inviting space to serve others, where they can come and feel loved and known. I am constantly in awe that I have been given such a blessing.


So here’s to three years, and, hopefully, many more! I never did have a housewarming party...maybe now is the time! Who’s in?!