Our home is for sale. Not our house, mind you, because we don’t own our current dwelling. But the place where we live is on the market.
As in… we keep our house clean at all times, and realtors and potential buyers walk through our home several times a week, and we won’t see a penny of the sale. It’s inconvenient, for sure, but it’s what we signed up for. {And if you happen to be looking for a 1600 square foot home in South Orange County, let me know!}
We moved to Southern California in a flurry, and God blessed us with a six month lease. We didn’t really know where we wanted to live and we were staying with friends nearly two hours away {in rush hour} from Micah’s work, and we needed a dwelling stat. We stumbled upon a gorgeous condo that should have been out of our price range, but because the owners needed short-term renters who were willing to show the property when they put it on the market in the spring, we got cheap-for-the area rent and settled into our little two-story abode in America’s most family friendly neighborhood. I kid you not. I can see the pool, splash pad, park, middle school, soccer/baseball fields, and public library from my front door.
It’s been a great place to kick off our SoCal life, but now it must come to an end. We are trying to figure out where we want to move and how much we should pay and if we should rent or buy. A zillion logistics are up in the air because we are still, essentially, in the middle of the longest move ever. But that’s okay. God knows where we are now and where we will be in a few weeks, months, and years.
The bonus to having your house listed is that a professional photographer comes and takes fancy pictures of your place, so here is a glimpse of our first Cali home. We hardly hung anything on the walls, since we knew we were moving again so soon, and our garage is filled with boxes, some empty, some full. This house has been a temporary dwelling in every way. Growing up, a picture hung in our guest bathroom that read “Wherever we are together, that is our home, for a home is where people love.” That’s the truth about this little condo. It was never our house, but, for six months, it was our home. In it, Talitha learned to crawl, Zianne learned her first ballet moves, Micah started bringing a laptop and Blackberry home from his new job, and I hammered out those final words of my dissertation. Thanks, Lord, for this home and the memories we made here.
