In the last several months, I had come to terms with renting out my house next year to strangers. I knew I would have to move everything into the attic. It wasn’t supposed to be that hard. Just pack up the stuff and move it to the other side of the laundry room door. Easy.
Not quite three weeks ago, the Lord showed me otherwise (Mud Season). He doesn’t want this to be easy on me. Not in any way, shape or form. I now find myself in a race against time and tears. I need this to be like a band-aid I am ripping off. It can’t be a long, drawn out process. And so I have committed to having the house ‘market ready’ by Thursday. The day after tomorrow. There will be a yard sale on Saturday. I am trying to put price tags on all the trappings of a life that suddenly seems so unbelievably ordinary. I am working to not only clean the house, but to clear out the rubble of my past.
Some things are easy to give up. One of my TV’s. My toaster oven (ie: the single girl’s kitchen). Most of my books. Baskets. Lots of clothes. My vacuum (can’t wait to give that one up). But more things are hard. Ten years of formal gowns, each with a wonderful and unique memory. My martini glasses with the funky curved stems. My Stetson. The painting from a friend in college. The hat I bought in Nassau when I was 10. The 19th century map of Europe, given to me for my college graduation. My collection of world maps and globes. All things ‘red’ that my family and friends have given me in the last three years to match my home. The sign at my home that says ‘Francesco – 105 Butternut Lane’.
The hardest part of this is trying to distinguish between what to store and what to sell. If next year was just going to be a touristy trip around the world, I would keep most of it, knowing I would use it when I come back. Knowing that in September 2009, I would settle back into life as I know it, with most of my friends married, and more of them with children. But that isn’t the case. Next year isn’t about me. It is about the Lord. About giving over everything to Him. It is about selling everything for Jesus. I won’t even pretend to think that I will be the same person who is leaving here. Next year is going to challenge me. It is going to change who I am and I don’t know who I will become. I don’t know what I will want. I don’t even know if I will be coming back to New Hampshire and that in and of itself, is a hard concept to comprehend.
I can’t know who I will be in 18 months. But I do know this: I am becoming the woman God wants me to be, the woman God intends me to be, and the transformation starts now.
