Every place I look, I see memories.
We are moving tomorrow. Every thing we own, in boxes...or almost there. Furniture has already started to disappear, and the walls are growing bare. All that is left are these walls that have watched this family form, and grow, and become. These four walls have seen it all. And now, though this house is growing empty, when I look around - all I see are memories.
These four walls welcomed us when we were only 3: Steven, me and 6-month-old Kayligrace. I remember her baby face in the pictures the day we first got our keys. These walls watched her take her first steps and heard her speak her first words. They saw her first Christmas and her first birthday. They watched her steal our hearts, and they watched Steven and I discover who we are as mommy and daddy.
These four walls watched as new life bloomed within me again, and they watched Kayligrace become a big sister. This was the house to which we brought Micah, then Malakai, and then finally Jesse home. These walls have witnessed those first holy moments of love being birthed in the first cuddles, smiles and hand-holds of sibling introductions. They have watched the fascination of discovering fingers and toes and giggles.
These walls have stretched to nearly busting with the energy, zest for life, and rough-housing that has gone on here. They have watched countless pictures being drawn, creativity bursting, personalities breaking forth. They have held the markered drawings and sharpied words that didn't quite make it onto paper. They have borne the bangs and bumps and kicks and scuffs of childhood. They have heard the songs and stories and beauty of imagination running wild.
These four walls have also seen the messiness of family. They have heard the angry words, seen the fights. They have endured the temper tantrums and slamming doors. They have borne the hurt of the wounded child who had a rough day at school, and protected the frightened child in the midst of the storm. They have heard the "I'm sorry's" and witnessed forgiveness and grace.
These four walls have watched Steven rumble on the floor with both girl and boys. They have watched Tickle Tigers and nerf gun wars and games of hide-and-seek. They have heard millions of stories read and stories told and laughter around the dinner table. They have watched me bake with little buddies and help with homework and yes, read even more stories.
These four walls have watched us fall in love with our pets. First Fidget and Snickers, the guinea pigs who were supposed to be both girls, but then it turned out, weren't. Then it was our beloved Cody, who, in his early days, made quite the mess on these walls whenever we would leave the house. Buster Brown, Cody Bear, tug-on-his-ears, best-dog-ever, I've-got-a-waterfall-for-a-mouth, please-take-me-on-a-walk, Cody. We could never have asked for a better dog for our young family. And then these walls watched as Kayligrace opened a small, wrapped shoebox one Christmas morning to find her very own guinea pig inside. They witnessed the wonder of a girl and her guinea pig, and all the happy days thereafter with Noel and Gypsy.
These four walls have watched us care for one another in sickness, and clean up afterwards. They have soaked up blood from our falls and puddles of water from our play. They have watched us change diapers and potty train. They have watched the kiddos learn to brush their teeth and wash their hair. They have watched as first teeth were lost, and they alone know the secret of when the tooth fairy really comes.
These four walls have welcomed our friends. They have housed the shouts and giggles of other children, and they have kept the secrets of a bestie. They have watched us celebrate birthdays and babies. They have listened as we have gotten to know neighbors and laughed with old friends. They have witnessed the beauty of new love as we have sat for hours with couples doing pre-E, and they have celebrated the sanctity of marriage with us as we welcome these couples again as newlyweds.
These four walls have also seen every tear - whether caused by someone within, or someone without. They have seen the betrayal, the brokenness, the grief. They have been unafraid of the anger, the accusations, the questions. They have witnessed the ways we've hurt one another, and the ways marriage rubs the rough edges right off - right rough on the soul, though it may be. These walls have held us together, no matter how far apart we may have felt in the moment.
These four walls have also seen the mending. The clinging hugs, the keep-talking-till-we-find-the-other-side's, the glances and touches that let us know we're okay again. These walls have seen it every time, because these four walls don't let us walk away. Not ever.
These four walls have heard our prayers and witnessed the moments when God broke through. They have seen the moments when we were crying out on our knees, and when we were singing praise with our arms lifted high. They have listened as our children spoke their first words to God and read their first stories from His Word. They have heard the questions and stories...and oh-so-many tangents. They have watched us celebrate the birth of our Messiah on Christmas morning and the death and resurrection of our Savior at Easter. They have seen every costume we've worn and feast we have prepared. They have seen every Christmas light, every stocking, every tree. They have even witnessed Mousekavitz in action, every mischievous deed.
These four walls have been our safe place. Our soft spot to land. The place we can go where we know we will be seen, we will be heard, we will be known. These walls have seen the worst of us, because we know they are strong enough to take it. And they have also seen the best of us, because this is where we know we can try out our dreams and learn to fly.
These four walls have seen and heard and held so much of our lives...that they were looking a little battered and bruised. The life rubbed right off of us onto them. Paint chipping, showing the depth of what is underneath. Pipes busting, spilling life-water right out all around. Stains and holes and cracks and wobbles...these four walls giving away their life for ours.
Well, now it is our turn to give back. Scrub the scuffs (and drawings) off the walls. A fresh coat of paint in the bathroom. Peeling stickers off of...well, everything. Fix the pipes, re-shingle the roof, stain the cabinets. We've had a couple people ask us if we wish we'd done all this work years ago so that we could have enjoyed it ourselves. But I always say no. I have loved this house just the way she is. Just like a new mom bears the marks on her body of bringing forth new life, this house has borne the marks of bringing forth the new life of this family. And her stretches and scars have only made her more beautiful. And just as a new mom needs a little extra rest and recovery, this house needs a little extra care and TLC as it recovers from the life it held within.
So as we pack up the rest of our boxes, and paint over the last of the marks on the walls, I do it all with a heart of gratitude. I am thankful for these four walls that have sheltered and protected us as the storms of life have raged and battered. I am thankful for these four walls that have let in the rays of light and hope in the midst of our darkest moments. I am thankful for these four walls that have bound and tethered us in the moments when all we wanted to do was flee. I am thankful for these four walls that have withstood the bursting discovery of childhood. I am thankful for these four walls that have watched and witnessed as we have chosen to love again, and fallen in love anew, every single day.
Lord, thank you for these four walls - for this house - that You have given us for the past 10.5 years. Thank you for the babies I have been able to bring home here, and all the life we've had with them - and with each other. Thank you for the ways we grown and the things You've taught us here. Thank you for the neighbors we've had and memories we've made. Swimming at the pool, catching lightning bugs. Block parties, birthday parties, taking walks, riding bikes. Bonfires and swings and building forts in the hedge. Throwing sticks and throwing balls and throwing anything we can find. Climbing and kicking and chalk. So much chalk. Lord, we could never have known what a blessing this house, this street, this neighborhood, this home would be. As we leave here tomorrow, please be preparing our next place for us so that we can learn and grow and live and love in a way that brings You glory. And please let this home be as much of a blessing to the next family it holds as it has been to us. May You be as present and active in their lives as You have been in ours, and may they come to know You more and more, living life in these four walls.
