In the past few weeks, we’ve both sold the home we’re living in and bought ourselves a new one.
I love this house. God led us here, got us a great price just before the market would have made it impossible to own. It’s near a great playground / green space, it has a wonderful open concept design, the master bedroom is really big for a home this size, and we’ve made so many incredible memories here. We’ve done a major reno, fixed the driveway, finished the basement.
I also love the new house. It’s full of possibilities. It’s bigger, a little nicer, in a different neighborhood. I really like the layout, the bonus room, the development potential in the basement, and the fact that all Hueberts will enjoy bigger rooms by the time proverbial dust clears. Oh, and it’s near the new middle school our younger two will be attending.
We’ve signed off on both sets of papers. As of May 17th, this home will no longer be ours. As of May 10th, the new home is ALL ours, so we’ll have a week to move over there. We’re in packing mode now, stuffing things into rubbermaids and boxes, stacking the boxes in the garage. Purging, cleaning, and getting ready for the big day. Trying not to knick the paint. The new season in the new home awaits, after all.
All of this feels like a great illustration of our current kingdom reality. We’re living here for now, on earth, though this is no longer our home—or, at least, it won’t be for long. Our new home awaits, prepared for us by God and ready to be milked for infinite possibilities. Living in between possession dates is an interesting feeling. Our time with many of our wonderful neighbors is coming to an end, so we’re becoming more deliberate about our relational investments. There are things we’d love to purchase but will hold off on, things we won’t truly need until we’re settled in the new place. There are stacks of boxes in the garage full of stuff we haven’t needed in over a month. So do we really need them? Should we take them with us or let them go?
I can see the new house in my mind. I long for it. I can almost taste it. I don’t want to leave this place I’ve come to love, but I can hardly wait for this new chapter. In some ways, I’d rather just get it over with. Now that I know where I’m going, I just want to do it, already.
Has it ever occurred to you that you’re living between possession dates, that one of the grand purposes of your life is to begin “moving stuff over” to heaven right here and now? Not physical things, but your heart’s affections, your dreams, your trust, your anticipation, desire, and direction? As we put our faith in Christ… and then grow in that faith, this is exactly what’s supposed to be happening.
How about you? Do you long for heaven, do you fear it, or do you even care?