It occurred to me yesterday, as I was staring out the back window at a row of freshly hung laundry swaying to a breezy rhythm. I’m living my dream.
How do you miss something that big?
If someone would have told me six years ago that in six years I’d be living in a century-old country house with an amazing man, homeschooling 3 spirited and precious children… I’d have fallen over. And then we had our first babe – and the dreams began. I remember so clearly the nights Hubby and I sat in our little apartment and chatted over hot tea.
“Can you imagine what it would be like to have a little old house… big huge backyard… aged trees… room for a fire pit… surrounded by nature… ah… I’d love that. That’s my dream.”
“Yea… that’d be a amazing.”
“Ha… guess we can keep dreaming.”
“Hmmpft. (sigh) Guess so.”
“It would be amazing though.”
“One day, maybe, hun.”
That day was yesterday. I mean, realizing it had come true. Tears started streaming down my face at the simply sight of laundry in the wind. The sound of kids laughing in the background.
So, today – I started snapping photos… the beauty I see in the old, the rugged, the weathered, the beauty of dreams once dreamed… now reality.
|The old shed on our neighbor’s property line – I love the old window…|
|A hidden engraved 1923 stone near our well.|
|An old laundry pully from who-knows-when…|
|The majestic Walnut tree that stands firm in the backyard.|
|Firewood. I have firewood. Yes, this is a big deal.|
|The view from up here.|
And I realize that I haven’t been thankful enough for this Old House. It’s new to us – we’ve been here 5 months. I’ve committed to living gratitude – and I’m embracing it deeply. Trying to. Trying really hard. Following Godly example, writing the gifts of my days and life.
It saddens me that in the crazy bustle of the day, I can so often forget to stop, look around myself, and agree to acknowledge how blessed I am. How undeserving – unexpectedly – and astoundingly blessed.
So, even today, surrounded by craft messes, dishes, laundry to be done, gardening everywhere, hostas on the driveway, potting soil in the carpet, dinner to make, and everything that isn’t ‘taken care of’ – I raise my hands to the sky and bow my eyes and thank Jesus for it all. All the crazy, sticky, breezy, mess of this Old House He’s given us.
(Linked in for Multitudes on Mondays @ A Holy Experience)