If Walls Could Talk

Have you ever moved to a new home? In your adult life, I mean? After a few years of marriage and children and stuff and memories have accumulated? 

It took about 6 hours for 3 men to come in my home and pack up 83 boxes of material possessions. They laughed and commented about how many books we have. The next day it took 5 hours for the same 3 men to load our stuff in a big, honkin' truck. 

Can't leave those paddle boards!

It is, at the very least, a stirring of an assortment of emotions at once. 

It was odd. 

Watching someone pack up memories into a box and stack it on top of another box of things that should have been tossed out. Weird. 

Plus, I wanted to help. But, they asked that we not pack anything! So, I felt like a lazy bum just hanging around answering questions when they needed me. Don't misunderstand me, at the same time, I'm grateful. These guys were machines.

Does anyone else keep old Bible Studies? I want my girls to have them. Is this normal?                                                 Should they go?

It was embarrassing. 

I have photo albums and scrapbooks that I would never willingly part with, but then I had nonsense. 

I like to think I am one that doesn't accumulate junk, but I certainly have! I haven't made a scrapbook page in about 4 years--WHY am I still holding onto that circle cutter thing? Why do I still have all that scrappy paper? Before you say "The girls might use it!", I've asked them over and over. They do not seem to have any more of a creative gene than I do. Bless.

It was motivating.

I am hoping to seize the opportunity. Since it's already packed up, I'm hoping to just get it on Craigslist and sell it. (Says every person whose ever moved.) Books, scrapbook stuff, games, etc...they've got to go! Let me dream!!

It was enlightening.

We have been gone from this house and the majority of our belongings for the better part of 6 months. This means we had an obscene amount of clothes in closets that we obviously survived without wearing, seasonal items excluded. We went without using the footbath/massager thing. I made it 6 months on a pair of gym shoes and 4 pairs of flip-flops. I don't know how many peasant skirts. A few.  I haven't worn a pair of jeans since March. 

How many sets of gel pens does one family 'need'? Markers? Hairbrushes? You would think we work with Haz-Mat if you saw the number of rubber gloves around this place!? What is that junk about?

Don't judge the walls. I never could see that it made sense to paint the closet.

I was surprisingly not emotional about seeing my stuff packed up in front of me. At times I even felt guilty for not being more so. 

It is all just stuff. We usually have a pretty healthy perspective on material things, but I did wonder if I wouldn't have a little episode with all of it happening at once. Nope. I didn't.

It is just a couch.

It is just a hammock.

It is just a bed.

It is just a table.

It is just a house.

But, that's when it hit.

Sitting in that house. Alone. No chairs, no table, just me and the carpet. I started really thinking about who was going to live there. I hadn't thought to pray over them at all! I was so ashamed!

I went in every single room praying over who would sleep there. I prayed they would know the Jesus I know. I prayed that that little house would serve them they way it served us. Humbly and perfectly.

While in each of those rooms, I thanked the Lord for making that house a home for us. My Jesus and I had a good, Southern-style cryfest. It was ugly and beautiful at the same time. I was crying some kind of ugly and the gratitude I felt toward Jesus and my Spouse was beautiful.

They really were grateful tears. Grateful for two little girls' spit up on the carpet. For Barbies and Legos and The Teeny Tiny Mouse. Grateful for Goodnight Moon and Genesis 1:1. For the healing that house has seen. I'm so grateful for the marriage that is only a representation of God's grace. He knows and I know that this marriage is NOT a reflection of what I would have made it by myself. I am so thankful for Grandma & Papa's visits everyday at 11 and 4 until the Alzheimer's stole the reminder. For the multiplication and adjectives and Chutes and Ladders. I am so grateful for the Word that has been opened at that kitchen table. For the discussions and debates and conviction. Grateful for the meals and prayers and movies and laughter and late nights.

I imagine if those walls could talk they'd tell you that this girl is skilled at a tongue lashing. They'd let you know that your Spouseisms writer is, in fact, the hot mess she claims to be! I pray those walls would also tell you that Mark and Melissa are exactly who they say they are: The Spouses.
What you see is what you get.
The good, the bad, and the ugly.

And, I am so very thankful for every tale those walls could tell.

What do you think your walls would say?

I'm also very grateful that this was my 'rental car' after the transport company took the truck. Thanks, David! I enjoyed the 'Stang!