Years ago, before we moved into this house, God told me we were going to move and gave me the timeframe in which it was going to happen. Two days later, my husband had a dream, a very detailed dream, about a house we were going to move into. I had not told him about what God had told me.
Everything about his dream was correct. The yard, the roof-line, even the stuff going on in the house at the time.
We have forgotten the dream. It's not something we dwell on. Although there has been 1 element that has not happened yet. Until just now.
Two boys dressed in military garb have just come to the door and asked my husband if the girls could play with them. Just like in his dream. My husband's response in his dream over 6 years ago was, "I'm sorry, my girls can't play war games." My husband's response today? The same exact words.
Does this mean we are done in this house? Are we moving on soon? I don't know. I am ready to leave. But the memories here....I think every woman cries over the home she's created and then has to leave it.
When I think about it, I can honestly say I can totally move on. I am willing to redecorate to my pleasure. I am willing to accept the challenge of fun and exciting new things. I am willing to find new friends. I am not attached to friends here in my neighborhood. (It seems like no one wants to reach out here anyway. I've tried!)
Some part still mourns for the years I've been here and have to leave. But, at the same time, this has never felt like home. When we are gone for more than a week, the first thought when I see this house is "This isn't mine." Honestly, it isn't. It's a tool. It always has been. I just hope that we added to it and that the next person to get this house will fall in love with whatever character we've put into this place as well as add their own.
God bless the next house owners.