What you do in your house is worth as much as if you did it up in heaven for our Lord God. We should accustom ourselves to think of our position and work as sacred and well-pleasing to God, not on account of the position and work, but on account of the word and faith from which the obedience and the work flow. ~ Martin Luther

Monday, June 16, 2008

Wanna see the House?

So~ here it is, as of three weeks ago. The house we will be moving into. Our HOME. <if you are having problems viewing the slideshow: you can go here for a plain Jane totally out of order slideshow out of my Flicker account. >

Amish men have been working on the house, board by board, paint streak by paint streak since February. There are several Amish men working on it as we speak. As you can see~ there is much to be done. Like.... everything! The kitchen looks more like a junkyard and the bathrooms~ well, I didn't even share pictures of them! No toilets or anything.

I don't know if the house will be ready to be moved into in four weeks. I hope so. SINCERELY hope so. Otherwise, we might be livin' the hotel life for a while. Even if it can be moved into~ it is likely we will be around construction workers for a while longer.

I already consider this place "home". I fell in love from the moment we drove up. I dream about it at night, talk about it during the day, and anticipate the time when we can live in it. There is such beauty in the house, even in the dust piles and peeking insulation. I will enjoy watching the beauty unfurl before my eyes.

In the comments section, my friend Kris shared this poem. I enjoyed it SO much that I would like to share it here for EVERYONE to see. Not to mention: I am going to print it, frame it and hang it where I can read it often. I love it. Thank you for thinking of me-and taking the time to share such a lovely poem Kris! It is so fitting for this new adventure we have embarked on.

by Edgar Albert Guest

The dreamer sees the finished thing
before the start is made;
She sees the roses pink and red
beyond the rusty spade,
And all that bleak and barren spot
which is so bare to see
Is but a place where very soon
the marigolds will be.

Imagination carries her
across the dusty years,
And what is dull and commonplace
in radiant charm appears.
The little home that she will build
where willows bend and bow
Is but the dreamer's paper sketch,
but she can see it now.

She sees the little winding walk
that slowly finds her door,
The chimney in its ivy dress,
the children on the floor;
The staircase where they'll race and romp,
the windows where will gleam
The light of peace and happiness -
the house that's still a dream.

You see the weeds and rubbish there,
and ugliness and grime,
But she can show you where there'll be
a swing in summertime.
And she can show you where there'll be
a fireplace rich with cheer,
Although you stand and shake your head
and think the dreamer queer.

Imagination! This it is
the dreamer has today;
She sees the beauty that shall be
when time has cleared the way.
She reads the blueprint of her years,
and she can plainly see
Beyond life's care and ugliness -
the joy that is to be.
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