The History of a House

(look at the blog under this for pictures!)

Jimmy and I bought our first house in November of 1999. It was a two-story, blue-sided house, with two bedrooms and one bathroom. It had 1090 square feet and a great yard. It served us well for about a year and a half, but two things made us re-evaluate the house. First, we had taken over the youth group at our church. As the group got bigger, it got harder and harder to cram teenagers into the living room. They began flowing out into the dining room, which made it hard for everyone to focus. We also started thinking about expanding our family. Two bedrooms were fine for Jimmy and I, and even for our first child. But we began to talk about what kind of space we would need looking forward five years. And so when I was a few months pregnant with Abigail, we began construction.

The addition was 20x24 and was built entirely by Jimmy, his father, Jim, and his brothers, Craig and Christopher. On the first floor, we built a huge family room – 15x19. Jimmy wired his surround sound into the walls. We put a mudroom beside it, leading into the kitchen. It enabled me to move my washer and dryer out of the basement. The entire second floor was a master suite. We built his-and-hers closets. Jimmy’s was big enough to convert into a bathroom with a toilet, sink and shower-stall. Mine was big enough for an entire bathroom – toilet, sink and full-sized tub. We built a small porch off of the second floor. Our old bedroom got new pink gingham wallpaper and a brand new crib.

Abby was born November 16, 2001. Christmas came, and with it, something else. Jimmy realized that he wanted to do more than just give a little bit of himself to serving God and others. Three days into the new year, our family of three (colicky-baby included) loaded in the car and we began looking at Christian schools. After a lot of thought and driving and praying and crying (I almost cut Abby’s finger-off somewhere in Arizona) we decided that Harding University’s School of Biblical Studies was the best choice for us. Leaving the teens we had grown so close to was hard, but we knew it was the right thing to do. And a part of us hoped that perhaps the road of life would return us to Ashland.

We had no idea what would come. Jimmy expected two years of school. Jimmy got four. I expected a time of transition. I found the life I always wanted. And with time, the idea of a full-time role with a church became less and less appealing to us, instead we chose a path of vocational-ministry. Where a “real job” pays your bills, but you get Bible and ministry training to start new churches or strengthen existing churches. This is becoming more and more common in areas outside of the Bible-belt. But we were at an impass. If he was going to “just get a job,” Jimmy wanted to be back in Ashland. But as I said, I had found the life I had always wanted. Nothing in me wanted to move back.

And yet on March 26, we worshipped one last time with the best family of Christians we could ask for. And we drove away. I sobbed for hours. I never doubted God’s faithfulness. I knew He could bring great things from the decision Jimmy had made and I had submitted to. But it meant leaving my life for a place that I felt like had very little for me. We weren’t back long when I found one thing that had been very much me could again be mine. Our house.

It was for sale. It had been for a year. It was listed for $8,000 less than we sold it for. There was an open house and we went, not so much because we were seriously thinking about it, but for the nostalgia. And, oh was it overwhelming. In every room memories flooded my mind and heart. Rubbing my huge tummy as we put the final touches on our bedroom only two days before Abby was born; the first time my great-grandmother held her first great-grandchild; cramming “our kids” into that tiny living room, and than filling our big family room with them later. The box to Abby’s baby swing was still in the basement. Two pair of Jimmy’s coveralls still hung in the garage. We walked through it again two weeks later with the listing realtor. It might be kind of neat, we thought. We walked through it again a week later with a realtor we know from church. It would be more than neat. It almost feels like it was meant to be.

Baring any surprises, on June 28, it will be our home again. Abby’s room wasn’t changed. It still matches her bedding. Our bedroom wasn’t changed. We’re planning on repainting the family room (let’s just say the color looks a little too much like something out of Cooper’s diaper) and adding the half bathroom downstairs we had originally intended on adding later.

I’m not fooling myself. Moving back into our house will not fill the holes left in my heart by our Searcy parents, precious two-year old twins (and their parents,) an incredible body of believers and the greatest friends a person could ask for. But I hope it begins to show me that I can have a life here that I enjoy and that is full of blessings.

It’s a little scary. Walking back into the life we were living four years ago. Sometimes I fear it’ll seem like the last four years never happened. But in my heart I know that all we have done and seen and learned and loved in Searcy and Heber Springs and Tulsa and Belo Horizonte will only make the life we live at 403 Sharp St. richer. The history of our family really began there. And now it’s our present and our future.