Ally - when she was about eight years old |
Ally - always the encouraging one through my chemo and recovery |
Ally - thirteen years old and a young lady |
We were young, naive, eager, and enthusiastic. Baby Ben was fifteen months old, learning to
run, curious about everything, and finally a good sleeper. I had completed my first semester teaching
biology at the college level and was working part time in family practice. Not-Yet-Farmer Husband had just completed his
doctoral studies and dissertation and was preparing to begin his post doctorate fellowship. It was time to move. Move from our little basement apartment under
a mansion in the big city and make our own home.
After interviewing in several places Not-Yet-Farmer Husband
was offered a post-doctorate residency fellowship at a private practice
counseling setting about 200 miles west of the big city. So we packed our bags, loaded the U-Haul
(twice!), and moved into a fixer-upper-er with two and a half acres. Our first home! The siding was wood pecker
pocked, the carpeting stained, dirty and reeked of dog urine, the wall paper
outdated and the drywall nails puckered through. But it was sound and dry. And overlooked a beautiful setting of trees,
hills, and water.
Day One of moving day we celebrated with a spaghetti dinner
and ate around our little built-in orange laminate table. Day Two began our fifteen year project of
remodeling, building, and repairing. Oh!
The projects I could write about.
Tiling, painting, staining, insulating, drywall, mudding, hardscaping, siding,
roofing, framing, window installation, deck remodeling, kitchen counters,
resurfacing cabinets, carpeting, parquet flooring, custom molding, and bathroom
creations. Every room, every wall, every
floor, every window. We even jack
hammered the old concrete and poured a new driveway. We built and remodeled as though it would be
our home on this earth until we passed.
I can’t even recall the hours and hours, weeks and months of work. A labor of love – most of the time. With memories of laughter, sweat, and tears.
And then we moved to the farm.
The “other house,” for which our remodeled home became known
as, was not yet completely remodeled or completed when we moved to the farm. So we went back and forth working on projects
getting the home ready for sale. This took years. Years.
But finally it was done. We put
it on the market. First ourselves, then
with a realtor. But the house did not sell. Common feedback was “It’s too big”. And yes it was – it was now 4000 square feet,
five bedrooms, four bathrooms with a master suite. Empty, it took me over an hour just to
vacuum.
For almost two years it stood.
Our prayer was that a Christian family or perhaps ministry
would purchase it and be blessed by the size, design, and vastness.
Then one day in mid-February an offer. We closed last Thursday.
They are a young Christ-following couple purchasing their
first home with a young beautiful and curious baby boy about a year old (sound
familiar?). Their passion and dream for
the home and the ministry for their lives was to adopt children with special needs – either children with Down Syndrome or cerebral palsy.
Oh, how my heart is filled with warmth and gratitude. This would be a perfect home! An answer to my heart's prayer - even when I didn't know it.
Happy World Down Syndrome Day! (How Do You See Me?)
"For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none." (Psalm 139: 13-16 ESV)
Today’s Journey Joys: Ally-girl - our gifted child with three 21st chromosomes, breakfast with a dear
friend, farm fresh eggs, pancakes with warm syrup, spring sprouts and tulips
pushing through mulch, roosters crowing, bees flying, sun-shine warmth, aprons and cats curling.