Goodbye House

It's funny, I knew when I moved in, I wouldn't live there long.  I had the feeling all along that my time there would be 3 to 5 years, tops.  At least that's what I thought, that's what I told myself to keep from getting so sad.  You see, I had to move away from my kids and grandkids for a time.  And it was pure torture.  I hated it.  I cried.  I prayed.  I begged God to let me move back.  And I knew that eventually, I would move back--however, it just wasn't happening fast enough for me.  At least I thought that way 3 years ago.  And then something happened to me at a women's conference called Triennial.  God got ahold of me, (that's what I like to call it) and He did a major attitude adjustment on my heart and all was well with the world--for the last couple of years.

And then it happened.  We sold our house.

I didn't really like my house at first.  For one thing, it wasn't a 1928 Tudor-like my old house.  It was smaller and newer, and it wasn't in the right town!  So, I held things against it.  I blamed it for a lot of stuff.  I'd mutter under my breath--you know, whiney stuff, complaining stuff, silly stuff.  I didn't even realize then that I was dealing with an ungrateful heart.  Nope, it was all about me back then.

After my little attitude adjustment though, God began to show me some things.  Little things.  Things to be grateful for.  Like for example--when I'd have friends over, and I would gaze around the room and see their faces, I would feel such a deep love for these friends of mine.  Sitting there in my little house, all cozy, an appreciation would surge through me, and it would almost bring me to tears.

Or when a neighbor would drop by for coffee, we'd sit and visit and I'd think to myself--I just love my neighbors, and again, I'd almost be brought to tears.  I remembered all the Christmas parties, and summer patio parties, and BBQ's and I would get all nostalgic.  Yes, I did have some wonderful times in that little house.  I had just forgotten.  Silly me.

And then it happened.  We sold our house.

A few days ago, we drove away for the last time.  My husband and I each in our separate cars, suitcases in the back, dog tucked it, moving van loaded--we drove away, and I had to say goodbye to my house.  And I did.  I literally said out loud, goodbye house.  And then I cried.  Some of those tears were happy ones, full of awesome memories, and some were sad ones because I didn't realize what a great little house it had been to me until the last couple of years.  Pulling away, I asked God to forgive me.  And I thanked Him for all those wonderful times in that sweet little house on the river, in the most beautiful little town that I had ever lived in, with some of the most loving friends and neighbors that I had ever known.

Yes, I said out loud (so that my house could hear) goodbye house, and thank you for taking such good care of me.