So here is the truth. I don't want to move.
Despite my upbeat excitement (for the most part) and positive attitude about the new house. Despite the fact that I truly love the new house we will be renting. Despite the fact that I knew this day was coming for many months now. Despite the fact that God has been preparing my heart for this very moment. Despite all of this, I am sad.
We built this home, designed it the way we wanted it specifically for our family. We had plans to finish the upstairs, replace carpet with wood floors, paint more rooms, work on the landscaping, and just spend the next rest of our life making this house our home.
When we moved in, our youngest was 4....now she is a very smart and funny 7-year old. For almost 3 years we have watched our children grow in this house. We have hosted our family for Christmas each year since we moved in, and planned to do so for many years to come.
I know that this house is just that, a house....wood, drywall, stone, brick. Nothing more. I truly believe what I tell my children-home is anywhere we are all together. My head knows this, but my heart just won't catch on.
It's little moments that are the hardest for me. Folding laundry in my dream laundry room (I love doing laundry in there....I know, weird). Going to bed in the first master bedroom we ever made a true sanctuary for ourselves (we always focused on other areas of the house first). Putting clothes away in the girls bedroom. Watching the kids jump on the trampoline in the backyard.
I believe that God has a plan for us and wants only good for us. I am excited to start our lives in our new home, new city, new neighborhood. I am excited to live missionally. But I am hurting inside as well. I am willing and ready to go where God leads, but it is hard and that's the truth of the matter.