One of the things we hear when we tell people that we are restoring a one hundred year old house is, "I always wanted to do something like that." I once thought that we could live our whole lives in suburbia discussing the latest sitcoms and miss living our lives. We could all miss living them for the glory of God. Here we are, living. Let me tell you, it is not as romantic as it seems in The Notebook. Most days I hate my kitchen. It needs a sledgehammer taken to it. I get so tired of dark walls and dusting every other day. I catch myself and I must say that I am thankful for the journey. Let me tell you why.
When you have lived with every creature comfort and have never lacked any physical nicety in your life, you become pretty entitled. Really, you become a greedy jerk. Most of us are. We hide it behind our Christian speak and throw money at a few things here and there to feel good about ourselves, but deep down, we love our stuff. God sent me into the middle of nowhere surrounded by no one like me in a place that had no comfort so He could slowly rip out my pride and smash my self-reliance to a bloody pulp. In all honesty, as I weep at exposed sin, I am genuinely grateful for this adventure. I am thankful to not be going through the motions of life, but truly living it. I am thankful that there is no one like me here. Every day is challenge beyond my comfort zone. I am grateful that I won't get to the end of my life and wish I had restored a house and opened it up for people to come stay in and experience the love of Jesus in. We're doing it. We're two and a half years in the process. God has sustained us this far and He will finish what He started in us.
This is part of my bedroom. It is a big room. It is dark because there is no drywall on the walls or ceilings yet. You can see the dark exposed Pine. Denbigh is adding foam to the ceiling in our room.
The first sheet of foam going up.
A pice of art on my mantle.
Sculpture on the mantle.
Foam going up. That blue tarp is not our comforter. Don't worry your pretty little heads about it. We have a lovely comforter.
More and more foam.
This is the secondary sitting room on the second floor. Denbigh did the ceiling in here last week. He is adding foam to the exterior walls to add to the insulation factor.
Look at that, a happy white wall. Joy.
Here is a painting I just started.
For our eight year wedding anniversary, I asked for a Crepe Myrtle. I was told once that since 7 is the number of completion that 8 is the number of new beginnings. I liked it. I wanted to mark our year of new beginnings with a blooming tree. As soon as it dropped below 100 for a few days, Aaron (the college student that lives here) and Lance planted the tree. (I made them dinner. Win.Win.) This is the tree's first bloom. A few days after we planted it, I was doing my daily Bible reading and came across a great verse in Isaiah 55. "...instead of the nettle, the myrtle will come up, it will be a memorial to the Lord.." If you know anything about this place or my past, you know that there was plenty of nettle. God is giving us something different, a new thing...for His own glory.