Moving Up

I’ve spent the better part of the last couple of months moving.  We sold our 2200 square foot suburban home in North Richland Hills in order to make some much needed changes in our family’s future.  I’ve been calling it our New Adventure.  Truly it’s a fresh start for us in a lot of ways. 

11 years ago, right after I got out of nursing school and right before I was expecting our first baby, we bought our first home.  I had been hoping (begging, pleading, nagging) to buy a house for what had felt like ages.  Once I get something in my head it’s hard for me to shake it. 

You know, that’s the picture a lot of us have in our heads, right?  There’s a husband, there are babies and there is most definitely a house with a mortgage and a yard big enough to dream in. 

After having lived our marriage in an apartment or two, now with two solid incomes we thought we were ready to take the plunge of homeownership.  I felt this rush; pressure, like we were behind; trying to catch up with everyone else.  I felt this underlying shame as well; as if that we didn’t have our act together as a couple until right then and now we should take the giant leap into a mortgage and finally be on par with our peers. 

Come to find out a bit late, there are very few decisions you must make under pressure.  Putting pressure on a bleeding wound, calling 911, running back into the fire to save your baby…. Buying a house not so much. 

I know that’s dumb.  Truth is most people our age haven’t a clue what they’re doing either.  A lot of us think we should instantly have the homes our parents have (and possibly worked for years to attain) in the same neighborhoods.  We think we should be driving the new cars befitting a household with two professional incomes, hiring the painters and the lawn levelers until we’re up to our eyeballs in debt. 

It’s all bunk, mind you.  Everyone’s financial situation is so completely different.  I’ve found out that so many people struggle with debt and are living paycheck to paycheck despite what it seems from the outside.  We’re consumed with appearances and we hush any problems we might be having.  We certainly don’t share stuff like that. 

One of the deepest, most profound conversations I had was with a group of very special moms I know.  One of them came in, having showed up late to our get together because her and her husband were considering selling their home, and she said she could only tell it like it was.  Apparently years ago they had faced a bankruptcy after a job loss and now were trying to move on with their lives and that of their children, hoping for debt payoffs and less burden.  Oh my gosh.  I was impacted to much by her bravery.  She just laid it out there.  I thanked her several times for her frankness and openness and I wish we could all be like that.  I know it might sound silly but so very few people I know are open with their struggles, especially the financial ones. 

Well, come to find out, and I’ve learned this more and more, we all have our own set of struggles and those that we are ashamed of and don’t talk about are often far more common than we think. 

Anyway, all that to say I thought, based on the direction society had me headed in and what I believed to be what was expected of me, what I should expect of myself and my marriage, when I had been married for four years it was time to buy a house and have babies.  That was just about as much thought as I put into it.  I mean, I knew I wanted to have children.  When I was asked as a child what I wanted to be when I grew up it was never “teacher” or “nurse”, it was always a “mommy”.  That much I knew.  The path to get there was a bit foggy. 

We had spent a year or so improving our credit so we could get a decent rate on a mortgage.  With a VA loan wide eyed twenty somethings like us could get a mortgage much larger than one might estimate we could afford and with not a penny down.  Golly. 

So, with a preapproval in our pocket, a gleam in our eyes and a history of hasty purchases we went to look at a house listed at a price we thought we could afford.

It was in the exact right, perfect location.  It was close to everything.  It was built like so many of the houses the “rich” kids I grew up with would’ve lived in.  A fact that was not lost on me especially seeing how we were in the same area I grew up in.  Two story, brick and siding, arched entryway.  We wandered about during our tour.  I imagined this is the kind of house the popular kids I knew lived in.  I half expected them to appear from behind closed doors in cheerleader uniforms or Student Council Polos. 

After parting with our (later to be discovered as quite shady) real estate agent after a 10-minute look around we found ourselves discussing the house.  We went down the street to Home Depot to price out flooring as we figured we couldn’t live in a house with bubble gum pink carpet.  It wasn’t moments later that we called to put an offer in.

First house we looked at together and we bought it. 

We bought it with a zero-down mortgage, two incomes and a whole lot of blind hope. 

We bought it even though, unbeknownst to us our Inspector wasn’t really into “inspecting” small, unimportant items such as wiring or furnaces.  He wasn’t really into details like that but he was recommended by our spiky haired, slick, smooth talking real estate agent so we figured we’d go for it. 

Now, all of this is not to say that there were not a lot of really happy times in that house.  There were birthday parties that included Elmo, princesses in cardboard castles and my personal favorite, our Red Neck Water Park that included a giant soapy slip and slide and other water attractions built with PVC pipe by the husband who may have missed his calling as an engineer.

This house provided a more than comfortable roof over our heads for 11 years.  I brought all my new babies home to this house.  It’s just that the purchase itself was one of the dumbest decisions I’ve ever made. 

For the record, I am not in the least bit ungrateful.  There are so many people in this world who are hurting for a home and I had a good one; a dry, safe home with ample space for me and my family.  God continued to bless us with this despite my own stupidity and I marvel at his Grace.  

You live and you learn, I suppose and I’ve learned that I had a lot of improvement to do in the Good Steward department.

Now, I know as I packed up all our belongings last month and loaded them into a storage unit or purged them or sold them, I was supposed to get a little teary eyed and sentimental.  I did, a bit.  I thought about how much growing my kids did in that time, the fact that they had taken their first steps on that wood floor and toddled up the stairs in their diapers chasing the dog.  I remembered the Christmases and the Halloweens. I remembered my puppy that had to be put down and when he got sick I carried him into a backyard full of snow because he couldn’t walk.   I remember the pink fluffy slippers I got for Christmas that had little jewelry boxes tucked inside them, filled with tokens of love and hope. 

Now, don’t judge me too harshly.  Mostly, I felt ready to move on.

AS I looked at the marks on the kitchen wall where we had kept track of how tall the kids were I thought about how much I had grown too.  I had grown out of this house. 

When I looked at it what I mostly felt was shame.  I saw unfinished projects, uncleaned messes, so much stuff that no one person could ever keep tidy or neat.  It was a bright and blinding example of disposable, unmeaningful, cluttered and unintentional living.  It was a house neglected and a symbol of a lot of other things that could’ve used a heck of a lot more attention such as relationships.

And, if I can get rid of all that other physical stuff in our lives, all that clutter, why not get rid of all the other stuff that drags us down too?  What about bad habits?  What about misdirection?  What about all those things that I want to change about the way in which we live?

I have yearned for ages to have some land and to live simpler.  It took a huge step to really start that journey.

I found myself throwing so much away.  May the Good Lord bless the men who came and picked up huge stacks and piles of garbage or near garbage from our curb over those few weeks.  Bulky entertainment centers made of MDF, old blinds, the rocking chair I bought for my first apartment for $7.50. 

I also sold stuff with an urgency and motivation like I needed to pay off the mafia or something.  I don’t know how that works I’ve only seen the movies.  It was all stuff I thought I’d be sentimental about but now, it just looked like stuff.  Unnecessary stuff.  Things that cluttered and got in the way of life instead of making life better.

And you know what?  It has been one of the most freeing experiences I have ever known.  I don’t need all that stuff.  I don’t need all that burden.  That’s exactly what it is too, whatever you have you need to take care of and there’s only so much we can do. 

I told my kids as we were getting ready to move to look around them.  I told them the five of us are our home.  It’s not a building or a house or a place.  This family is our home and this family is going on an adventure. 

We are beginning this week what we have been calling “Part Two” of this adventure.  Part One was selling and purging the old.  Part Two is renting for 2 years while we save up money for acreage or whatever our Part Three will prayerfully, hopefully be. 

Moving into a very nice rental is a lot easier than parting with 11 years’ worth of remorse.  AS I put away the things I decided to keep they mean so much more. 

Anyway, I feel like a boxer that just threw down her fancy robe or jacket and is ready to fight in the ring towards step three.  Bring it on. We’re moving up.