A Place of Refuge

I've always had a wandering heart. The idea and act of going places always has and probably always will excite me. It's not that I don't like home but a lot of times I just don't enjoy staying at home for an extended amount of time. So it came as a shock to me when Brian and I started talking about purchasing a house. A part of me thought I could just live in apartments forever. Also, the idea of having a permanent place frightened me a little. I am the type who gets bored quickly and seeks for change. How could I ever own a house and not get sick of it?

 However, after looking at how much money we'd spent on rent since getting married, my heart sunk a little and the idea of making a house payment started to sound much more appealing than paying rent. But I was more than positive we couldn't find the right house for us, a place I could grow attached to.

But I was wrong. We found it.

Ever since I was just a little girl, I always said I would one day live in an old house and fix it up. Others' ultimate dream houses include ideas of swimming pools, massive yards, Jacuzzi tubs, and home movie theaters. However, when I think of my dream house, I think of something old and filled with charm. I think of creaking floors, porch swings and a fireplace. The idea of walls already filled with the memories and stories of other families feels endearing to me.

When we took a tour of the bungalow house, I instantly felt myself fall in love. It was built in 1914, had a huge deck and was surrounded by mature trees. It was a bonus that there was a tree house and posts for a hammock in the yard. After our initial tour, I remember turning to Brian with wide eyes and saying, "It's just like an old house in a scary movie." Which in my opinion, the houses in scary movies are almost always the prettiest. And everywhere I turned I could just see us. Living. Being. And living and being happy. I could see a Christmas tree near the fireplace, I could imagine myself coming home from a rough day and breaking down once I got inside the comfort of those walls, I could see us gathered with friends out on the deck on warm summer nights, I could imagine myself walking a dog, I could see the kids playing in the yard, I could imagine measuring their height each birthday and marking it on the wall. I could see and imagine all these things I wanted in my future that I had never been so sure of before. After months of debating, praying, revisiting the house, and weighing pros and cons, we did something that felt so crazy to me. We put in an offer. After going back and forth with the sellers a bit, we both agreed on a price. As of last week, that little bungalow became ours.

We have a house and it's a dream. Sure, the floors creak and we've been staying up late every night repainting all the rooms . . . but it's ours. I cannot wait to make it into a home. Sure, I have a wandering heart but it's nice to know it will always have a place to wander back to for rest. This house already has 100 years of memories, but I can't wait to fill it with our memories, both bitter and sweet.