It's been over a month since my last post, and for good reason. The past month has been filled with finalizing the house, packing and finally moving. Of course I haven't managed to unpack and organize everything in just 5 days but I am happy to report the main level is in order, minus anything being hung on the walls.
This house has been an unbelievable blessing, but even more so since I know this is my final move for a very VERY long time. For the first time in nearly 4 years I can unpack boxes and put things away in their permanent place. There is no concern or worry over how long, or short, this residence will be my dwelling because I can say with full confidence I'm finally home sweet home.
Everything about this house, everything about this move, is summed up in the knowledge and assurance that my future is secure. I don't say that in a materialistic kind of way, but if you've peaked in on my life over the past 4 years (or you've read any previous blogs) you know things have been in a perpetual state of change. Now I'm finally home. For good.
Some people questioned why I'd build two houses in two years. This build was completely different, though. I knew every decision was being made with permanency and with my family in mind. I knew this is where we'd live, where we'd entertain, where we'd be for a loooong time. This build allowed personalization - meaning, these choices and decisions were with our likes and family in mind.
The rock on the front of the house was one of the first deciding factors that helped guide the entire look of the house. I noticed this dark purple/maroon color embedded in the rock...and then it hit me. What if we had a purple front door?! Oh yes, it would be purple. Prince Charming shared my enthusiasm for the royal shade and thus it began a series of choices that now make up our home.
But a funny thing happened. E & I showed up to the house just a few weeks before we would move in and found this horrific Barney purple shade on the front door. "That's not the right shade!" I exclaimed in shock. E pointed at the door and asked if my favorite color was purple and assured me that it was purple. Oh yes, it was purple alright, just not the right shade of purple. Not the one I had picked, at least! You see, the Black Raspberry I had ordered was somehow mistakenly painted Majestic Purple. Purple is a sign of royalty, they say, but I was going for a subtle elegant look rather than a preschool-dinosaur-inspired one!
It was a simple fix and it was repainted the right shade the next day. You can see the comparison:
Now that we're occupying the halls, dwelling in the rooms and making ourselves at home, it's starting to sink in that this is our new house. This is our home. But as I went to close the front door this morning a thought came to mind. That door is much like the testimony of my life. You see, I know there is a tragic shade of majestic purple hidden beneath the elegance of the black raspberry, but there's only a few people who would ever know about the mishap (except for the fact that now it's posted publicly for all to see). The mistake has been painted over, covered with the right color.
The door wasn't replaced. It still bears a layer of paint that should have never been there, but it bears no sign of the mistaken paint. What people see is the finished product. They see how the door matches the shutters and pulls out the royal hues in the rock.
I can say the same about my life. There is a hidden layer beneath. Some know the details - some only think they know. But it's not what's on display. What people see is covered in the righteous work of mercy and the finishing touches of grace. The entry point of my life, a heart once marred by imperfections, now bears the royalty of being his chosen one. Every layer, every mishap, every mistake, every experience have helped build me, grow me, shape me into what you now see. I assure you, it's a continual work in progress! But somehow God sees fit to never leave me in the state that I was.
God doesn't look at us for the mistakes that lie beneath - He looks upon us for the miracle He's created us to be. He enters your life through the doorway of your heart, whatever shade it may be. The door is the entryway to our home. If you come for a visit, you may look at the door and recall the wrong shade that's underneath - simply because I told you - but not because it's what you see. And that is exactly how our Father views each of us.
Our purple door means a lot to me. It is through that door I say, "Welcome."