I can so relate to the in-betweens right now. Hasn't this been where I've been for the past six months? That just makes me cringe. Half a year of this. One foot in our home of eight years, another foot dangling somewhere close to our new home, but not quite grounded yet. Hanging.
For 77 days I'd wake up every day and wonder- is this the day? Will someone come look at our house and want to buy it? Will we be moving soon? It was a very short sale time considering the market we are in, yet the dangling continued with the wait for closing. Hurricane Irene threatened to be my worst nightmare. My friends all laughed at me, but I spent some serious time praying that a tree wouldn't fall on my house and jeopardize its sale(I take credit for the downgrade of the storm's rating- LOL). The relocation company we have been working with created more red tape and headaches than it did actual help. The person we are buying our new home from doesn't seem altogether trustworthy. One day before closing, no one can find our appraisal. Until both feet are planted somewhere, and all deals are final, I remain in-between.
I'm not worried about any of this. I've had my share of frustration. But deep inside I've had an overwhelming sense of peace. It's been my compass through these past six months. As difficult as waiting is, as hard as it is to say goodbye (though I don't say goodbye- I avoid it like the plague), as wide open as the next six months seem, peace is guarding my heart.
Our home has been sold and in the meantime we have been staying with my parents. It's a great novelty to the kids though I think we are all getting anxious to set both feet in our new house. Last week we went out with our best friends to celebrate the sale of our house and a birthday among us. Sara and I hopped into the smelly lotions store and I bought some smelly house stuff. The cashier asked for my home phone number. It occurred to me- I didn't have a home phone number anymore. I didn't have a home. I'm in-between homes.
I'm learning more and more how much I love having a home. Though it's certainly not all about the place, for a homebody like me it is a big part of it. I've never been nomadic. I love settling down. I love having a daily routine, my own bedroom to run to for a moment of quiet and a place to decompress. As frustrating as crayon on the floor can be, if we are home, at least the kids aren't coloring on my mother's floor! And I really miss preparing dinner for my family every night and maybe even the dishes it creates. I miss that safe place where I can shut the world out. I'm tired of living out of a suitcase and rotating the same four tee shirts through my wardrobe! When I packed our bags for this in-between time, it was still warm and summer-like. Consequently, we are all missing jackets, I have no socks, only two pair of jeans, no sweaters, no long sleeves.
Emotionally, I'm in-between sadness and sheer excitement for the future! It's difficult to leave behind eight years of friends and my parents and our church and our town. I hate seeing my kids say goodbye to their friends and none of them really understand it. I do and I'm the one who starts to cry. When I think of the things that really can't be the same, I grieve. But when I think of all the blessings that are ahead of us, I am elated. When I think of Josh coming home to us every night, I get that sense that all will be right with the world again. After all, he and the kids are my home.
Sara pointed out to me that the day the movers come to bring our belongings to our new house, it's the first day of fall. A new season. How fitting. How perfectly fitting.
"To everything there is a season; A time for every purpose under heaven." Ecclesiastes 3:1
The in-betweens will be officially over.