Books. Six boxes of books. Those were the first things I packed. And as I placed each handful into the empty cardboard containers that would become the temporary residence for our entire lives, I thought, "How blessed my children, my husband and I are to have so many books."
This whole selling, house-hunting and moving process has been a challenge. There were moments when we had no clue where we would go or where we would end up. There were odd questions and comments from the kids like, "If we can't find a house we're gonna have to live in a bush." To which another child responded, "And we'll need a peeing bush, too." Poor Chloe even broke down in tears one evening when we came home from Walmart WITHOUT having purchased a house, because apparently Walmart sells homes these days and I just didn't get the memo.
But then, we found a place. A big place. More bedrooms. More bathrooms. A spacious kitchen. A place with lots of storage, which in a child's mind means the ultimate locale for a great game of Hide-N-Seek.
I've had little excited people, eagerly packing their things and finding their place in this whole transition process.
We've slowly, but surely, begun to unpack things, awkwardly fumbling around unfamiliar surroundings deciding how to best utilize this blank slate.
I've started setting many things in place in the new kitchen and foyer.
The refrigerator is even beginning to take shape.
I've even had time for my first bathroom selfie and a great cup of coffee!
But no matter how many things I set in their assigned places; no matter how many cups of coffee I drink or selfies I take, the fact remains that we have to let go of what has always been ours and find home in a rental...a house that belongs to someone else. We have to let go of a place that holds such heartfelt treasures and find some semblance of home in the interim...a temporary home.
I know we'll be alright. I know there are beautiful experiences and adventures ahead. I know it's okay to let go.
But it's tough. And it hurts a little.
So here we are finding home in a place we don't belong, windows and rooms that we're passing through. This is just a stop on the way to where we're going. I'm not afraid because I know this is our temporary home.