God was the One who led us here, step by faithful step.
On our second visit to see if this place would really work for us, I remember leaning on the ledge of the little upstairs loft and gazing down to the living room below while Tim and our realtor did a fine-tooth-comb inspection of the basement. The seller's realtor walked through the living room, and looking up, asked me if I liked the house.
Playing it cool and not wanting to look over-eager, I replied, 'it's got good bones.' And I meant it.
The house was us. Pure and simple. And my rapidly beating heart assured me that we could create a wonderful new home within these four walls.
Sure, the living / dining / kitchen area were small.
But the wide open cathedral ceiling, two skylights, and windows everywhere made that seem kind of inconsequential.
So what if Tim's hand-hewn farmtable didn't quite fit and there was no room for any kind of cupboard in the dining room.
I looked right past the old pink formica counter and the mismatched appliances. The small closets, dated lighting fixtures, and dreaded popcorn ceilings were noticed but laid to the side.
And yeah, the blue carpets upstairs had long ago seen their day and the pine floors were faded where furniture had sat unmoved.
All seen and noted.
But this house was cradled in quiet woods of oak and pine ... and there was that multi-windowed space above the garage that just begged to be put to good use.
The place had good bones alright. You could sense that it was a home that had been loved well. And we could see ourselves here.
A strangely exhilarating peace filled us as our anticipation built. For we knew then and there that if this is what God had for us, the house would be ours.
It's far too easy to see our home's flaws, isn't it. Most all of us have been blessed with far more than basic shelter and a simple roof over our heads. Yet, as much as we all love HGTV, it can easily join forces with Pinterest and Facebook to spark within us an unhealthy emphasis on comparison and perfection. This leaves its mark on us for sure, leaving us feeling oddly unsettled and ungrateful ... like our homes just aren't enough.
Which easily morphs into the lie that we just aren't enough.
Which easily morphs into the lie that we just aren't enough.
But I can't help but believe that every home has good bones. Even if you have to search for them like hidden treasure.
Take it from me. 'Cause Tim and I started our life together in a one room, oddly furnished studio apartment, complete with a very tiny kitchen nook and quite a petite bathroom. And it mattered not one bit.
For it had nothing to do with the current culture's relentless striving for stainless appliances, hardwood floors, mammoth walk-in closets, or luxurious jacuzzi tubs.
Even back then, it was all about laughter and love, memories made, unlocked doors and open arms. And creating a fairly simple life ... even while living with expectation, for what, we weren't quite sure.
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Let's talk about your home's good bones.
What do you appreciate about where you live?
