100 days...

What a joy to watch our new house materialize before our eyes.

Sometimes it seems like we go days without seeing much progress. But then I look back through the photos...

It's astounding really.

On December 28th all we had were some concrete basement walls sitting frozen in the ground. And here we are exactly 100 days later with siding going on, paint on the walls, much of the flooring done and kitchen cabinets scheduled for about 10 days from now.

We've opted where to splurge and where to go for more financially wise options.

We've made all the design decisions.

And we anxiously await our first night in OUR house. Our true new beginning.

And we feel so blessed. Beyond measure for sure. And most certainly beyond what we deserve. But we graciously accept.

And we can't wait to share our home with you. Yes you. If you are reading this, then truly we look forward to welcoming you into our home. Into our New Beginning.

But before we can venture into this new frontier, we need to close out the former chapter.

JimE, for the most part, has already sorted through his memories and memorabilia and boxed up what to take along with us.

I'm just beginning the sort. Meanwhile Jim is plugging along working his butt off to prepare this house for sale.

Boxes are beginning to fill, get taped and sharpied, and stacked into the "kid's room" awaiting moving day.

I am trying to downsize. I want to take what is beneficial and weed out what will only amount to clutter.

I don't want to toss anything that my children might want. But I don't want to hang onto sh!t that will sit in boxes until it's the kid's time to sort through and decide what the heck to do with it. If it's final destiny is the Salvation Army or the dump, then let it be now.

Sometimes I say to myself, "If you had a house fire and lost every.single.thing within these walls how would you manage." I find this oddly helpful. (But trust me, I pray against an actual housefire.)

You'd probably be offended if you knew how many photos I have shredded. Literal bags of them. Some have been digitized. Some are just memories I shall carry in my heart for eternity.

But it's been therapeutic going through stuff. And I'm trying to embrace the journey.

Some days are tough. Others a release.

And I excitedly imagine placing every item I chose to keep somewhere in our new home. And I thank Jesus for the 'storage room' in the basement, beneath the den, that will undoubtedly house stacks of cryptically labled boxes for Jody, Sherry, Lorne, Kyle, Brandi, Ken and Jed to one day sort through, while shaking their heads and exclaiming, "what the what..."

... and then fight over whose responsibility it is to haul it to the dump.