Four years of dating. Three years long distance. Two different universities. Five years of marriage. Three cities. Nine different apartments we’ve called home. One Golden Retriever. One baby boy.
Over the past seven years, I’ve worked as a Recreational Therapist, Personal Trainer, Nanny, Barista, Therapeutic Support Staff, Behavioral Specialist, Executive Assistant, Human Resources Coordinator, Stay-At-Home Mom, and Direct Sales Consultant.
Over the holidays this year, my husband and I had the opportunity to see our sister and brother’s beautiful new townhouse. We walked in and it immediately felt like such a haven. It exuded a sense of warmth and comfort. At some point that evening, I embraced my husband and we both whispered to each other in unison, “this makes me want a home to call our own.”
We have not lived in the same apartment for more than one year – ever. And while we’ve enjoyed all (eh, most) of our little abodes, none of them have ever felt like home. You know the home-feeling I’m talking about – like, sort of rivals mom and dads house, kind of thing.
In these situations, even amidst our abundance, it’s easy to feel a bit sorry for ourselves. This is immature, considering we are the ones who have chosen an unconventional and nomadic life for this season, for the sake of my husbands career. Better yet, if given the option, I’m completely certain we wouldn’t change a thing.
However, there is something inside of us that longs to put roots down. Or, I suppose it’s more accurate to say, that there is something inside of us that longs for what we don’t have. And isn’t that just our plight as humans in this culture – discontent, envious, and longing, with the grass always a paler green on our side of the fence.
We are now beginning to search for our first home and we’re taking our time. Nevertheless, it’s amazing to me how easy it is to let our emotions, anticipation, and energy hinge on this process. Constantly on the MLS, envisioning ourselves in each home we like, as though that is going to satisfy our hearts. The truth is it’s just another thing. An exciting step but one that we “cannot take with us,” so to speak.
We have been incredibly blessed to experience so much in such a short time. Yet, I constantly find myself caught in this cycle of want. While I’m sure there is someone out there doing the 9-5 shift in the same cubicle for ten years that would long for the journey I’ve had. The point is, it’s so easy to get swept away in the undertow of this life. We’re made to believe that what we have is not enough, as we look to the person next to us and measure ourselves up. Pondering what they think of us as we wonder why we aren’t more like them.
What if the only measure you used was you? The completely unique path that God set out only for you. Think about that. Pray about that. There’s freedom there.
Let the grass on your side of the fence grow beautiful. Water it, weed it, and care for it. Let wildflowers come up with vibrance and beautiful chaos. Make it your own, like no one else’s.
Seek to be content. To be still in the things that really matter. In little or in much. In the calm or in the storm. In the valley or on the mountain. In the moving or the staying. In the coming or the going. Just be.