Nesting: The Call to Love on Your Home

My home is far from perfect. We live in a two-bedroom apartment. We have a lot of hand-me-down furniture and pieces left over from our college days. We have a toddler who is like a tiny hurricane, regularly leaving disaster in her wake. All of these facts together used to discourage and overwhelm me. How can this place – this temporary place that’s too small and too crowded and filled with the leftovers of others and stuff I wouldn’t pay a dollar for at Goodwill – how can this tiny apartment feel like a proper family home? My home?

In the past 18 years, I have moved 20 times. Seven of those moves have been temporary albeit necessary situations that lasted from four weeks to five months, usually as I was preparing to relocate permanently. The other 13 were moves into apartments or rented condominiums.

I have never had a house. I have never had my own outdoor space. I have never owned my home.

My mom made a comment yesterday that struck me hard. We were talking about E’s and my plans after he graduates with his Masters degree next May – plans that are really up in the air because of course, we have no idea where he’ll get a job. She said simply, “Well, you like to move,” as though no matter where we land, the task of moving won’t bother me – that I enjoy being something of a transient.

Do I? I thought. Do I like to move?

I like adventure. I like the process of learning a new place and seeking out what it has to offer. But I can do that by traveling. Do I like packing up all of my things, transporting them, and unpacking them again to set up shop in what is always another temporary home? No. I don’t.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, far back, there lives a hazy dream of a little house with a kitchen full of natural light, rooms full of books, and a garden planted in the back yard. I don’t let that dream get out much, though. I don’t allow it to sit in the front row of my thoughts, simply because I don’t want it to make me unhappy. I don’t want it to create dissatisfaction in me. Because where I am, where God has put me and my little family, is in a two-bedroom apartment in a busy suburb. And I have no idea if or when that little house – or rather, what it represents – will become a real possibility.

What I’m learning right now – what God is teaching me – is that He wants me to thrive where He has put me. He wants me to make this tiny apartment a cozy home where we are able to be truly content for as long as we are here. And then, He will call me to do the same in our next home, whether rented or owned, whether small or large, whether apartment or house. And the home after that, if necessary.

Philippians 4:12 says, I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.

This piece of Scripture always brings me back to reality when I feel discontented (usually after I visit the purchased home of someone else my age), when my mind says, You are 38 years old, married with a child, and you are still living in apartments, moving almost annually. What is wrong with you? We are not hungry. We are not in want. We are deeply, richly blessed. God provides for our every need. And comparison of any kind can be deadly, to our selves as well as to others.

For the past year, this two-bedroom apartment has not been the prettiest or most organized home. The closets have only served as a means to conceal the mess created by too much stuff in a too-small space. To make matters worse, about six weeks ago our apartment flooded, and things still aren’t back in proper order after the re-carpeting that had to be done. Like my closet. Total chaos (seriously, this looks like a shot from Hoarding: Buried Alive, right?) Notice that my dresser is in there – that’s because there’s not enough space for it outside the closet. I’m thankful that closet is a walk-in!

There are boxes and miscellaneous stuff piled in corners just because of sheer lack of space.

The dining room table is perpetually loaded with E’s books and homework because it’s the only place available for him to work. (Notice the bookshelf behind the table, which is piled haphazardly with stacks of books – this was because everything had to be moved so quickly when we needed to re-carpet.)

There isn’t much that’s aesthetically pleasing based on its orderliness or prettiness. As for me, I’ve been living in a sort of survival mode, kind of ignoring all the chaos, feeling somewhat helpless (especially after the flooding) and resigned, telling myself that making this place into a comfortable home isn’t a priority because it’s just another temporary place.

But suddenly, I’ve been feeling a pull to change all of this, to pour some love into our home, no matter how temporary it may be (and I mean doing more than just finally getting everything put away that was displaced during the re-carpeting). So I’m embarking on a season of nesting, one little step at a time, and I’m going to share that journey with you over the next several weeks, what I’m learning and how I’m changing things. I can tell you now, it feels so very good.

I started with my bookshelf last weekend. I love how the spines of books add color to an otherwise white-walled room. I’ve spent 18 years living with white walls. I tell you, I dream about painting walls.

So – nesting. More to come.

But first, I’ll be back Monday with a series of Thanksgiving-related posts – recipes, tips for making your Thanksgiving menu and then cooking it, and some ideas for setting a beautiful table on a budget.

Happy Saturday!