Our offer has been accepted.
We are now waiting for the title-search to be initiated by the seller (their job) and once it comes back clean we can write a check.
We won’t be debt-free yet. We still have to sell our house for that (back on the market in February is the plan). But then it will be fully ours.
Still trying to wrap my head around that.
I am so excited it’s really. not. funny. Feeling so vested I feel like too much is at stake. At the same time I’m trying to convince (imagined) critical voices to get off my back: Yeah, I see problems. It’s not a perfect place, but as Jay so succinctly expressed it:
This place meets our goals.
And not just the stated ones.
The articulated goal was a small place (with running water) on a chunk of land that could be debt-free with the sale of our house.
- A big front room (open spaces do a lot for my sense of peace). This is not a box we can’t turn around in.
- a dedicated laundry room (I’ve been doing laundry in our garage for the last 8 years)
- a dry cabin just outside the front door (seriously, I don’t know if I’d want someone living that close to me ) Jay and I hope to turn into a “reference library” so all our books can be accessible at once without cluttering the house with books we need less-often.
- A huge (seriously, huge) shed behind the house so that (once we weatherproof it. Which it needs) we can remove all the stuff in storage at my folks’ place, both to give them their garage back and to have all our own stuff accessible on our own property.
- Lots of water. An artesian well a stone’s throw from the house, a creekish thing and a pond or lake, depending on your definition.
- Have I already mentioned here how I’ve always wanted ducks, as opposed to chickens? The water is cool to me for that reason. Not that I really want to deal with wintering ducks (yet), I just really like the option being an easy one.
There are a few car carcasses in the woods that we’ll have to get rid of, and, yeah, I’m a little tense to see what’s hiding under the snow on these 6 acres, but I’ve been keen on this property since the first time it hit my radar on October 16th.
And it’s not solid till it’s signed, so the rug could still get pulled from under me until that day, but I’m trying to think on the words of a friend who’s just seen the picture of the Chinese daughter she’s been waiting three years to meet.
I told her how scared I was to have my heart so set on something that isn’t settled.
“God can change your heart,” she said gently. “Your heart can be in it, and if it’s not right God can change that and heal it.”
It’s struck me lately how many precious people in my world are also waiting: for a baby to be born, for an adoption, for test results, for transfer notices; and we share the instability, trying to “bear one another’s burdens” while also “carry[ing our] own load.”
The offer included a 15-day deadline to closing, so at least I have an end to the question.
And I am hopeful. And excited.
It’s no small thing to imagine I have a space, not only to hide from showings in (what a blessing it will be not to live in the house we’re trying to sell as “pristine”) but also to have a genuine “starter” home that we will live in (as or if) we build another “forever” home.
I am encouraged to think this verse applies to us:
Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin. (Zechariah 4:10)
And we pray our work will bring him glory.