We moved to this lovely new home in June. We had been looking for a new space for two years, but had never found the one that resonated with us. Some I liked. Some my husband liked. But both of us always felt that something wasn’t quite right. We waited and prayed. I stopped looking at Zillow and Realtor apps back in February. And then a text from a mom at my kids’ hybrid school came in the night before my May birthday asking me if I would like to buy their home. We went the next day, and immediately knew that this was it!



A few days later (on Mother’s Day!) we put our house on the market and it sold the next day. Within a week, we had bought and sold a house. We closed on both homes in mid-June. What a whirlwind! My boys spent the summer biking to the pool, kayaking on our pond and learning to fish. I unpacked and sighed relief that we had finally found a space that had margin, rest, and sanctuary written into its identity.



When looking for a home, I didn’t know what I needed. I thought I needed new and updated. Turns out I needed some 1970’s lake-vibe with knotty pine walls, crazy outlet covers, and carpet for days. We showed up with a list of what we thought produced rest, calm, and beauty, and then God took those things and surprised us, because he knows us better than we know ourselves.


I didn’t know that the natural beauty of a pond and pines on a tucked away cul-de-sac would be the place I felt I could exhale after years of holding my breath. I didn’t know that carpet would be fun to roll around on with my boys and that all the wood would feel like a cozy hug. I didn’t think the layout of my kitchen would work, but it turns out that the functionality and space feel perfect for me. I thought that my bathroom needed to be bombed, but it turns out that I feel like I am on a retro retreat back in there.



As a nurturer, I have tried to create space in our homes that give others a soft place to land. I had no idea that in this new season of working part-time and having many older kids that I would be the one who would need a soft place to land, and that the Lord would offer it to me. A soft place to land is by association, comfortable. A place where you feel comforted, safe, warm, held. A spot where you can be yourself, basic and undone. A place where vulnerability is welcomed and treated tenderly. A place where you can have B.O., food in your teeth, and hair that hasn’t seen shampoo in a while, and it’s fine.


My home offers a vibe that says, “just be yourself“. That’s it. My house, dated as it is, truly feels fine in its own skin. It doesn’t beg to be updated, and seems happy + content to be the place it was originally designed to be. I couldn’t name why I loved this house the first time I visited it on a playdate a year ago. But I did. I knew it was special because I felt like me when I walked in. I even took a photo of it and texted it to my husband saying, “I wish we could find a home like this one.” 


And here we are.