My Tribute to Our Home

I’m a homebody who wishes she were more adventurous. I love seeing the travels of others and imagining myself exploring new parts of the world. The rolling hills of Tuscany, the waterways of Venice, the views in Santorini, the roaring waterfalls in South America, the majestic mountains of Switzerland, the picturesque cobblestone streets lined by shops in European towns, and the historic landmarks around this globe that have their own stories to tell...it all sounds amazing.

Yet I find myself quite content in my own little hamlet, in my own home surrounded by familiar comforts and minimal effort to enjoy my own local sights and sounds.

I love watching for the three chipmunks that begin running around our rocks again in March on a warm spring-like day. I listen for the cardinals, the chickadees, and the robins; I try to remember to fill the feeders for my favourite goldfinches. We may not be the best at keeping up with weeds, our bushes often need to be trimmed, and the yard is larger than we ever needed, but oh, how I enjoy our park-like setting.

Daily, I anticipate how the sky might look, watching for where the sun's rays fall across our yard and across our home’s lived-in corners.

Friendly hellos with neighbours warm my heart as I walk my usual route. I thrive on anticipating the seasonal changes in town as I watch for early buds, first blooms, changing colour, or frosted tips.

Home.

Home is on my heart because I will soon say goodbye to mine. 

And oh, how my heart aches and my tears fall.

It's not lost on me that living in this peaceful quiet place, and having the ability to sell this property, is a huge privilege. Sometimes my emotions about it feel very selfish since so many live with much less, and I know that wherever we end up, it will *still* be a privileged life. As I write this, knowing it's our choice to let go of our idyllic setting, people are losing their homes through bombings and illegal occupation. Families nearby can't afford a home that fits their family and struggle to have food on the table. I have friends who have left their comfortable life to go serve and build relationships in a new country, in a new language, and without many of the comforts of home.

It certainly puts things into perspective.

Letting go still hurts though, and this tribute allows me to process my thoughts and show my gratitude for being able to call this place home for a season in life.

I love my home. 

I love her many windows letting the sunlight in. 

I love her country feel.

I love her coastal tones – my cottage in the country. We're not fancy.

I love the memories we've made here, the meals we've shared here, the friendships we've built here, the loved ones we've hosted here, the babies who've grown here.

I love the summer sounds of kids splashing in the pool, lawnmowers buzzing, birds singing, and trees rustling in the breeze.

I love our little hamlet. I love our quiet, friendly street with the kindest neighbours.

I love our small school, lovely teachers, and friendly parent community.

I love my friends here, and how I can walk to see them with just a quick last-minute text.

I love that I've found fellow proud Maritimers and that Claremont's lifestyle is a piece of my PEI-home.

I love watching our kids enjoy their best buddies on the walks to and from school.

I love popping into the Country Depot for pizza and knowing that if I needed to, I could grab bread, birdseed, a rake, and a pair of socks at the same time, with Bala’s banter enhancing the experience.

I love my summer mornings and warm evenings, with coffee on the deck and reading on the front porch.

I love the smell of my lilacs blooming and the sight of my clematis vine climbing.

I love watching the kids play, relax, bond, explore, and learn here. 
Of course, they fight too...not everything is picturesque!

The long, gentle sloped driveway and quiet no-exit street made a perfect learning course for new bikers; all three kids learned to bike here.

I loved watching everyone learn and participate in our "pandemic gardens"...so much excitement in breaking into the dirt, creating a garden, planting the seeds and watching for the sprouts to pop. So much enthusiasm as the garden exploded into lush produce in our own yard. Daily garden checks were the norm these last two summers.

I love my hamlet's community spirit that shows up in the Winter Carnival, the school's SpringFest and Halloween parade, the many scavenger hunts that were organized throughout the pandemic, and the general watching out and caring for one another.

I love my hamlet’s sky – watching the sun wake up the dawn over our back trees and set over our front weeping willow and the farmer’s field.

I love how we’ve made this home our own and she has held us these past few years in familiar comfort when the rest of life was so upturned and unfamiliar.

When the world felt harsh, unjust, confusing, and heavy, God reminded me of his faithfulness and unchanging love as I watched these hamlet skies. God used the happy songbirds and the beauty in nature around me to breathe hope into my weary heart. Throughout the last few years, this home has been a respite for me and I have been so grateful. 

Home.

So much to love. So much to leave.

And yet, hard is not the same as bad. It’s just hard and that’s ok.

This is where it's vital to remember both/and...multiple things can be true at the same time.

Leaving is oh-so-hard. 

And leaving can hold good for us.

No one wants to consider themselves “stagnant” – stunted to new growth, closed to new experiences, and content to stay status-quo.

Sometimes life needs a shakeup for growth. New places, new experiences, new people, new adventures. Stepping beyond familiar comforts always offers opportunities to learn, to expand our understanding, to open ourselves to new relationships…opportunities to grow.

We've had such a privileged eight years here, with all this open space. It has been a beautiful "family home" and will always hold a special place in my heart. I have no doubt it will be just as loved and lived in by the next family, and I'm thankful they will enjoy it!

For us, it’s time for a new season. Time to take some risks – some steps of faith, keeping our hands and our hearts open to where God wants us. I always want quick answers but have learned to trust the process because my God continues to be faithful, even when the way forward isn’t fully clear. To some (and to myself sometimes!), it may seem like a puzzling new direction, but the direction and the goal have always been the same…forward with Jesus and toward the things and people he places on our hearts and in our path.

He wants my trust.

And I have found him to be trustworthy.

So, together, our family will keep our eyes on him and take one step at a time…stepping outside our comfort zones.

Outside of our quiet and beloved hamlet and into the city limits.

Outside a steady income and into education and a new sphere of work.

Outside small classes, first friendships, and a small hamlet school, and into new classes with greater cultural and ethnic diversity and new friendships.

Outside the familiar and into the unknown...into all the good God has ahead for us.

I wrote these words on January 1st, 2022 and they remain the same today.

My feelings will come and go, circumstances will change, and as it is with life, there will be losses and gains, highs and lows in the year to come. Only God knows what's ahead.
But God will remain faithful.
That's who God is.
And so, I nudge forward, hands open, shaky heart, eyes up, fixed on Jesus who never changes, trusting his work in my life...in our lives.
Lead on, Lord.

So even as the tears may still fall as I prepare to say goodbye to our home over the next little while, I'm grateful I get to do this life with my family. I'm thankful the kids are excited for all the "newness" we'll get to explore. I'm thankful for my husband's willingness to step forward into unfamiliar territory (and his grace with me as I took longer to see the good and the possibilities). We get a couple more months to watch spring bring things to life and allow the kids to finish the school year in our hamlet, and then we will take what we've learned here and add to it as we go. 

We may leave our hamlet house, but we get to take our friendships with us! We will live, love, play, learn, relax, work, serve, and explore. Wherever we land and however the Lord guides us, we will make a home together. 

And who knows, maybe someday this homebody will take a few more adventures and explore the hills of Tuscany and waterways of Venice...or maybe I will continue to enjoy the beauty in the ordinary spaces and learn from extraordinary people...close to home.