Well, our kitchen floor is officially without waterproof material on it. Before me lay the bones of my kitchen, the sub-floor. My kitchen looks bigger but not quite as sturdy as I would have imagined. I know this is the first of many steps toward the installation of a new, easier to clean (but colder on the feet) flooring option (tile). It’s the very first baby step. My house is in disarray (not a huge jump from yesterday, but anyway…), and I’m not quite sure what to do. Take it day by day, I guess.
I had the pleasure of visiting at length with a dear friend yesterday and we were discussing home improvement, honoring our spouses wishes, staying within budget, etc. I was reminded of my last big home decision. It was before we purchased the home we are in now. Actually, right before.
My (devastatingly good-looking) husband and I learned that we were expecting our third child in January of 2003. At that time we lived in a 3/2.5 raised ranch and I became a little antsy to move before we welcomed our newest little one. The house we were in, the first one purchased by us as a couple, was totally adequate for what we needed-more than adequate-by anyone’s standard in any other part of the world but here, if you know what I mean. And while I wasn’t discontent, I was thinking we should strike while the iron was hot, before we had even more stuff to move. :0)
Anyway, we started to look for a house within our budget. Providentially, we were looking for a home when the mortgage rates where dropping like crazy and that allowed us more buying power. We found a house that we both liked in a neighborhood that we both liked for a price that neither one of us loved (we LOVE a bargain!) but could afford- according to the bank. They are always so generous when lending, aren’t they? So we signed a contract contingent on the sale of our house. No problem- no real commitment, yet.
We promptly listed our house (or may have already, I don’t remember which was first) and waited for a buyer. And waited. And waited some more. All the while there were visions of custom drapes and granite dancing in my head. For our new house, of course; the one we could afford if we only ate Top Ramen, but that I was convinced would be mine one day.
We were a little ambitious with the list-price of our home so we lowered it a little, hoping to spark some new interest. It did, and a few people dropped by here and there, just enough to give me hope that it was sell-able, but no offers. In my head I was already living in my new home, in my swim-tennis community, with my children playing nicely together in our new privacy-fenced back yard. My existing neighborhood had grown ugly and dismal to me, and my neighbors who I had always hoped to learn more about and spend time with (most weren’t believers, and I wanted to share my faith with them one day…) began to concern me. I didn’t want my kids to grow up near them, really. My compassion, mercy and love for people unlike myself was waining.
I was absolutely consumed with getting into that house. I would go to bed at night and dream in neutral wall colors and hardwood floors. I was pricing furniture to fit in all the extra rooms we would have. It was great, for awhile, and I was totally ignorant of what was really happening.
Around month three of having our house listed, I started to feel that we had acted too hastily in signing our contract on the new house. God was convicting me of raising that house up to an idol-like status. It took a couple of weeks to accept it, but my prayers slowly changed from “Let us sell our house, quick!” to “Please, don’t let us buy that house!”. It had clearly become an idol to me. I was thinking about that house all day long, everyday, and as soon as God revealed that to me fully, I wanted it as far away as possible.
I confessed to my husband that I was sorry if I had pressured him to sign that contract by being manipulative (which unfortunately, I can be-too easily) or pushy, and that I really felt we needed (I needed) to get out of that contract. Well, if you know my husband at all you know that he doesn’t just throw money around. The thought of backing out of a contract and losing earnest money was not an option (and I would not ask that of him). We would have to wait it out and pray that God would honor our (my) plea to not have the house I had wanted more than anything just a few months earlier.
God’s answer came a few weeks later when someone offered to buy “my dream home” with no contingency. We could finally get out of the contract with no penalty. Interestingly, that sale fell through and they called us back to see if we still wanted it. We gave them a polite “no-thanks” and smiled with gratefulness at God’s rescue mission. He had rescued me from myself. Again! He is a great Father, isn’t He!?
Less than three months later, we had sold our house, found another one for less money, more room, and a lovely blend of both believing and non-believing neighbors. God is Great!
I’m reminded of that whole scenario when I look at this kitchen re-do. I have to guard my heart against selfishness and greed. I think we women, especially, can struggle with a desire to continually “improve” our homes, not necessarily for functionality but for form. I read once that joy comes from contentment and contentment comes from gratefulness. Oh, how I need to remember this when my house is a wreck and my kids smell like feet! When I grumble, I’m not grateful.
I’m not saying there is anything wrong with being a good steward with what God has given us by replacing broken things and keeping our homes in working order. If there is something affordable that will make your home run more efficiently or effectively and you’ve got the spousal go-ahead, knock yourself out! Let’s just remember to pray for wisdom and protection from elevating our earthly gifts to an unhealthy status.
Thanks for letting me share with you.
