The house that built Katie

I always love to hear other people's versions of a story. Many times we are faced with an event and you can ask everyone involved and they all have a little different version of what took place. This is Katie's version of our house and what it was like for her spending her life growing up there and then having to leave. I am so proud of her that she is such a Godly child and knows that everything that is happening is God's will. She did an exceptional job writing this and it was too good not to share!

As I walk around the cold hallways where I always complained of being cold, I remember every detail. I can not come to terms with losing this place, my home, because I am stuck on all the details; the memories. I've spent hours and hours and days and weeks and months and years, playing and studying and laughing and crying in this house. My home. I've lived in this same house since I was four years old; fourteen years in one place. It is hard, because I don't want to forget. But it isn't the house, it's the people, the memories I will always have. When the time comes, I will say goodbye. To the marshmallow wars, the corners and shadows that hold the best hide n go seek spots, my many animals buried in the backyard…a bucket in the ground that clings to the things of the past, and the future…  I have to let go of the years of traditions; family dinners for Christmas, a Thanksgiving, Easter; the plays performed for every holiday, listening and still hearing the sounds of the flute; the strings of the violin; the keys of the piano; the syllables of love and passion through lyrics. I don't want to let go. I can't move. This is my home. But someone keeps telling me, “Katie, it's only a house.” I am scared. But I will always have the memories. Good. Bad. And ugly. Falling down the stairs, playing house and school, switching breakers, breaking blenders and Windows and vases and figurines… the laughter, the screams, the cries, the yells… These walls have seen it all: devastation, anger, heart ache, happiness, pure… joy. And they will remain here, a part of it will at least… The rest will come along and remain with us forever. Life goes on. Things change. Things happen. It's okay… Everything will be… Alright. You just have to remember, remind yourself, to remember. Never forget where you came from. We might move, we might have to say goodbye, but it will be alright, because we will have the memories and we will make room for more, in a new house, that will become a home… The photo shoots, the dolls and toys, the laughter, the sleepovers, the birthday parties, the super bowl parties, the game nights, the neighbors,  the friends, the family, all the memories this house has seen, from fights, to redemption, to Grace upon grace, to illness, to healing, to a strength that comes with no end… will be with us forever. It was a house when we found it, and we made it into a home. It raised me. It was a sanctuary. An oasis. For those who needed to get away. A place for anyone… who just needed to come. Hours of late night conversations and confessions… over coffee and tea and home baked goodies… I have to come to terms with it all. It's just a house. It's the people and the memories that are important… So wherever we end up, the people will still come, the conversations will still be had, and the love will still be abundant-I just have to remember, it's just a house; and God is telling us He has other plans for us, and this house, that we have to trust, even though it might be one of the hardest things we have ever had to do, let go of this home, our past, prepare our hearts for what is to come-and Trust to such a degree that doesn't even seem possible.