I can’t believe how much our lives have changed since we first met in 2003. Too young to know what was ahead…
In 2009 we bought our little mulberry house with so many dreams in our hearts. It is the perfect little starter home and it needed so much love. We worked in the yard every weekend, we did repairs and upgrades, we poured ourselves into our home. We were proud and we had plans.
I take comfort in the fact that the plans we made are different than the way it turned out. What a good life, indeed. As we say goodbye (for now) to the little home where it all started, I have been reflecting on the sweetness that was that experience. We built a life there. One that was messy and crazy and fun and most importantly *ours*.
We made lifelong friends on that cul-d-sac. We made lifelong memories in that yard.
We cried, we loved, we struggled, we fought, we laughed, we played…we homed that house hard.
I couldn’t stand the thought of this house not being ours. It was our first. We brought all our babies home to this house.
So we decided to keep the property (and thus a part of our heart) in Texas. Renting out and maintaining a house that we adore so much has a certain sense of accomplishment and reward to it.
I feel like it leaves us open to other possibilities and helps me feel more grounded there.
We leave our mulberry house to explore what else this life has in planned. This move was certainly never on our radar and leaving family behind has been quite difficult. I don’t feel like myself right now.
I look at that first picture from 2009 and I can’t believe how young and full of hope we were.
The older, more cynical me, wants to hold that girl, look her in the face and tell her how hard it’s been. How different the plans are. Prepare her. But then…I look at the last pictures taken there. Same house. Same flower bed. Same two people. Full of hopes and dreams and love and excitement. It’s still there. That girl is still there. Some fear yes. But my, look how we have grown! Look how the yard has changed because of those fears and tears and hopes and love.
Our children- we toiled and struggled and cried out and prayed and now we stand on the other side, arms full and hearts overflowing.
As I write this, tears flow freely. The heat streaming down my cheeks…a raw reminder that growth is painful but so good for me. This has been hard but I think that the mulberry chapter needed to be closed.
We needed room to grow and change and be challenged.
Alabama will be as good as we make it.
Just like our little starter home in Texas.
Don’t dig up in doubt, what you planted in faith. – Elizabeth Elliot