Scrubbing the Baseboards

We recently listed our house for sale and have begun the arduous adventurous exciting hopeful emotional exhausting overwhelming process of looking for a new home with a bit more space for our family. This coming May we will celebrate our 10 year anniversary as well as mark 10 years of making this house our home. 

Anyone who has ever attempted to get a house ready for sale with three children underfoot knows that it is not an undertaking for the faint of heart. I hit a point of discouragement last week, feeling like no matter how much paint I touched up, closets I organized or floors I scrubbed, there were 5 more things that needed fixing/cleaning/painting. I was forlornly standing in the bathroom when Anna walked in, wrapped her arms around my legs and said, "Momma, I think there are going to be so many people who want to buy our house because it is so very, very, beautiful."

It almost brought tears to my eyes. Our 1100 sq ft bi-level is many things - it is cozy, well kept and homey. But to be honest, I don't know that I've ever used the word "beautiful' to describe it. In that moment I glanced around and saw the house through my Anna-girl's eyes. It was her home - her place of highest security. It is the place that holds all of her most favorite things and people in the world. The full 5 years of her existence are encompassed in the scuffed walls. And yes, it is beautiful.

I've since been contemplating that interaction as I continue to work on the house. It turns out that scrubbing baseboards provides plenty of time for introspection and I'm beginning to see myself in the walls of my home. I'm not so unlike my house. Sometimes I feel like every time I make some sort of stride in my life, I turn the corner to see a whole other set of flaws that need to be worked on. And it can get discouraging. I find myself wondering why on earth God has so much patience with me. And usually when I am at a low point, He sends someone to encourage me, to remind me that in spite of all my flaws he loves me and He created me. My imperfections may be a part of me, but they don't define me. The weaknesses in my life are not just a reflection of my failures, but they are opportunities for God to fill me and continue his perfect work.

My life, like my house, won't ever be perfect. I've resigned myself to the fact that three kids in a small space does not make for utterly spotless house showings. And I'm not convinced that frantically covering the imperfections is really the best course of action, whether for the house or my life. Don't get me wrong, I'll keep moving forward in both arenas, but instead of seeing the marks and flaws as reasons for discouragement, I'm determined to see them as reminders of hope - of the Grace we've been given and the promise that he who began a good work will be faithful to bring it to completion.

Now... back to scrubbing the baseboards. This time with a hope for the future and thankfulness for what is to come!