[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #9b9b9b;”] S [/dropcap]o as I’ve repeatedly said (or whined), our 950 square foot house is mega-claustrophobic with two adults, two kids, and one dog. I simply do not have people over due to this fact. I can’t breathe in it, let alone invite more people so that none of us can breathe . . . . yet we’re stuck with it. And I’ve had weeks of telling my dear husband that we either get rid of half our belongings or I’m moving. That’s what happens when you marry an overdramatic, tightly strung female. You get threatened with ridiculous statements. But in all seriousness, I cannot stand it anymore. The other day, I went to unplug something behind the couch and tripped on some random item only to hit my head on the corner of a wall shelf and seriously about knocked myself out. It almost hurt worse than labor, and I had a cut and goose egg on my head for over a week. If that doesn’t tell you that the house is cluttered, then I don’t know what would. The only way to live in a little house is to keep it tidy and organized, and we have yet to do that. Thank the Lord that summer is coming as the boys and I can spend most of our afternoons in the back yard.
And thank the Lord that my husband does hear me. So last night, we sat down and made a list of furniture that needs to go, toys that are going, baby items that are leaving, and we even talked about switching the boys’ room with our room so that when Ezra is ready they can have a room that fits both their beds and their stuff. It’s not ideal for Mark and me, but it is what it is. We’ll leave the nursery as a nursery until we decide if we’re going to try for another baby or forget it. So we’re moving forward with getting our house sorted. And I think it’ll help me to be okay with living in the tiny house for a few more years.
Yet truthfully, I don’t want to be in our house a few more years. I do appreciate our house, and I love the memories it holds as we brought our babies home to it. I love that Ryder LOVES his back yard and that Zoya has a big space to run and hunt squirrels. I love our little nursery and the memories of nightly feedings and special times with my babies. But the rest of it makes me feel overly frustrated. I’d move tomorrow if we could. And I wouldn’t move to a giant house or to something fancy. With two boys, we won’t be living in anything very nice for a long time. Nor are we nice/fancy/big type people . . . and truthfully, the issue isn’t the size or niceness of our house. I think the issue is that I resent the bills, the loans, the house that is in constant need of repair, which means more bills. I resent the amount of work we do. I hate the weariness and exhaustion. I loathe working 6 days a week. I want out of this endless cycle of working to just survive. I want to thrive. And I don’t love Colorado, don’t particularly like Longmont, and I dream of so many other places and opportunities in life. This place just feels suffocating.
From the depths of me, I long for change.
This morning, while getting my quiet time in the shower, I was sharing this longing for change with my God. I poured out my heart, and then I felt this check that said yes, you want change but not all change is good. And I know that from experience; be careful what you wish for. So I immediately transitioned over to thankfulness. I realize that God has done a big work in me over these past years that I’ve struggled through. He has made a way for patience, for endurance, for moments of choosing to keep a right heart to work deep within me. I have fought, kicked, screamed, and struggled. Yet I’ve finally yielded. And I’m glad for that. It’s good to be in a place where you think okay, I don’t like this, this, and this, but I will make the best of them. It’s good to be able to say hey, what can we change within the circumstances of where we’re at, even if it’s only my attitude, in order to enjoy and make the most of the current day? I know better than to press for change, as I know that it’s all within God’s timing. And His timing is good and perfect. I also know that God knows my heart. He made me and my three guys; He, more than anyone, knows what we need.
So in conclusion, I’m so thankful that God is not finished with me yet, and I appreciate and love Him for not giving up on me. I am thankful for a roof over our heads and for a warm place to sleep. I know that our house is bigger than most of the world’s population. As Mark’s parents remind us, it is bigger than what we had (and could possibly still have) in the UK.
For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:6