This past week we sold our house in Redding. It was kind of an emotional week for me.
I have learned to grieve through the years. I don’t enjoy it, it’s not my favorite thing to do, but I know it’s necessary. And maybe it seems weird to grieve the loss of an object, but it wasn’t just that. I mean, I loved our house. It was a perfect size for our family and a great neighborhood with awesome neighbors. We even got to write scripture verses as a family on the framing of our house while it was being built. It was definitely built in love. I also loved my kitchen where I had the room to create some new dish (which happened often! Thank goodness my kids were always game!) I learned to garden there and love it. (Even in the Redding heat with red clay soil!) Plus, my pride and joy was the maple tree in the front yard that all of our neighbors loved! Living in a cul-de-sac was amazing for our boys who loved to make ramps and skateboard in the street the with all their buddies.
No, it was grieving – actually more the loss of a season of our lives. It was about the zillions of memories that it held. You see, our home was known as a house of peace. A retreat of sorts. It was a retreat for my husband and kids, (that I strived to create), a safe place from the outside craziness of all of our lives. So that when they walked in the door, and closed it behind them, they could be themselves and relax. No judgment. No outside expectations. Just be. And I really felt that this was important as a pastors’ family.
890 Jantail Court was a place for our family of five to laugh, cry, create, dream alone and together.
It was a place where many ministries were born as emerging leaders gathered in our living room. They deconstructed the church and then recreated it. They were also allowed to dream big and they did. And then they actually acted on it.
There were many meals and talks over the counter in our kitchen. So many conversations where we celebrated together and some conversations that were difficult. That’s real life.
So many fun memories at our dinner table with our kids every night. They made us laugh so hard, and it was a place where we processed our days. Probably a little too much sarcasm but we tried to keep it in love.
I loved our kids coming in at night into our bedroom where they would run down the hall and fly into our bed, (quite literally) where we talked about the day: the boys’ girlfriend problems or our daughter’s issues with the mean girls. High school was amazing and hard. For all of us.
Some of my favorite memories are of the countless Christmas parties for our staff and leadership where we took all of our furniture out of the living room and then lined it with long tables where we ate and celebrated what God had done that year at Risen King and in our lives. (Except one year I had so many guests that I had to put a table outside on our patio. It was a little cold. But, I did have a heater out there. Just didn’t ever do that again!)
So, now, we hand off 890 Jantail Court to a new family. One that we know and love. And they are honoring those memories, the legacy that we are leaving of peace, equipping and loving on young leaders, and raising kids in a house of grace. I am so grateful for the life we had there. Now, it’s time for our friends to take it and go beyond where we went. Pretty sure they will.
And, so we are released to truly land in our new house, already making some special memories in a new season of our lives at 17128 Solomon Drive.