nothin' but time...

Hurry up and wait.

That's the motto I feel best describes my life these last 2 weeks. Over the last couple of months, Luke and I have been on a mission to get things done on our house. It all started with the washing of the downstairs windows.

All fourteen of them.

By ourselves.

No. We were not smoking crack at the time. Although we were strongly considering it toward the end.

Anyway. Most of you know that we did a TON of work on the house before we moved in. And by "we" I mean our contractor Richard and myself. Luke got sent to Dallas for 3 weeks right after we closed, otherwise, we would've done more ourselves. But alas, God said no. And I said "OKAY!" because I was a single parent to an infant at the time.

Due to the fact that our new house did not have a money tree growing in the backyard, some of the bigger projects were put on the back burner for a little bit. We saved for things like landscaping, wood floors, and tile for the upstairs bathrooms. And oh yeah, the panty in the kitchen.

Don't ask.

Well. We waited, God blessed, and we were able to tackle the landscaping last year and the flooring just this last week. After getting a couple of estimates, we decided to hire people to prep the floor downstairs for wood and tile the upstairs...aaaand the pantry. We helped my brother and sister-in-law put wood floors in their house about a year ago so I was confident we {or more accurately LUKE} could do a fabulous job again. And now I would like to say a big thank you to my father-in-law who took one for the team and came down to help my husband, therefore; allowing me to do what I do best, which is supervise.

Everything was going according to plan {and Luke and I know how to work a plan like nobody's business}until the tile guys got thrown into the mix.

I waited the first day. They showed up 5 hours late.

I waited again the next day. This time only one of them paid us a visit. An hour and a half late. I thought,

Hey! We're making progress.

He left after working for about 4 hours.

And then, of course, I waited some more the next day. Apparently, I forgot to take off the sign I usually wear around my neck when Austin's climbing into his carseat. It reads:

Don't worry. I've got nothin' but time on my hands.

Four words: Hurry. Up. And. Wait.

I tried to remind myself to be Jesus to these guys. That I may be the only glimpse of Him they get. But I have to be honest and tell you that patience, well, it's still a virtue I don't have alot of yet. So I vented to my dad. And Luke. And my mother-in-law. Aaaaand my mom. When I was finished and my doorbell rang...much later than I was expecting... I smiled, opened the door to our home, and offered them a bottle of water when I started feeling guilty about my bad attitude.

When it was all said and done, they did a great job. Minus all the waiting. So good in fact that Luke talked to them about re-tiling our shower.

I KNOW!!

All this waiting has given me some good opportunities to reflect on some areas in my life that may need a little work. Or rather, it's given Jesus the opportunity to give me my next "assignment" if you will. Not that I've completely mastered the others. Much like our house, I'm a work in progress. I'm so glad He's always gentle with us, aren't you? Let me tell you, if I were Him I would've given me a serious attitude adjustment long before now. I imagine it would've looked alot like the Trips To The Car we threaten Austin with from time to time. Even if you don't have kids, you know the ones I'm talkin' about because we all experienced it a time or two. And some of us may have felt them as well.

Looking back over this past week, I've realized that if Jesus gave report cards, there would be an "N" {for Needs Improvement}next to Patience in mine. When will I learn to savor the fact that it takes a toddler FOR. EV. ER to do something because he's just so busy soaking up life? When will I accept the fact that it takes the love of my life a little more time to express his thoughts because he's doing a good job GATHERING them all? And WHEN will I embrace the fact that His timing is always different from mine because it's perfect?

I feel like I spend so much time hurrying from one thing to the next that I'm not taking the time to fully be in this moment before it passes. I already know time is flying, but the moments are flying even faster. It doesn't matter how much money we spend on our house. It's all a waste if the time spent here isn't sweet.

Whenever Luke and I reminisce about our childhoods, we don't remember the house. We remember the time spent there with our families. We remember playdates with neighbors. Modeling pictures by the pool. Pizza nights and sleepovers. Family dinners and lots of laughter. All these memories might not have been made in our moms' dream houses but they were the stuff dreams, or more importantly, legacies are made of.

I've given alot of thought to what I want this house to be to my own little family. I want it to be a place of refuge. A place we know we can return to and let the cares of the world fall off our shoulders as we walk in the door. I want it to be a place that you can feel the presence of Jesus. I want His name and promises spoken here everyday. I want our home to be a place of rest and relaxation. I want those that leave here to feel refreshed and ready for what may lie ahead. I want this house to be filled with memories made with friends and family. I want our home to be a place where we can laugh, have meltdowns, and just be...together.

This week, I realized that I need to stop stressing about the floors that didn't get mopped. Or the dirty dishes in the sink. Or Mt. Laundry spewing dirty clothes all over the floor.

This week Jesus whispered to my heart that it's not the floors or furniture that makes a home. It's the time spent here and what we choose to do with it.

So I'm choosing to celebrate the fact that for this season we've got nothin' but time on our hands.

There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven.

Ecclesiastes 3:1