This house seemed a bit too good to be true. Great price, great street in a great neighborhood, fully updated. It was everything I wanted and in our price range. Typically in this area I either see good price OR updated, but truly never both. So I texted my sister who is the assistant for our friend/realtor/the most helpful human you will ever meet, Haley, and they arranged a showing for us mid-afternoon.
When we pulled up to the house another couple was leaving. We were sad, but we knew there would be a lot of interest for the same reasons mentioned above. We took a look around the house, immediately knew we loved it and asked Haley to make an offer—all within a 30-minute showing. By the time she called the listing agent, the other couple had also called and told him that they intended to make an offer. But even so, we felt confident. We went in a good bit over the asking price with a cover letter (aka me begging these sweet people to sell us their home) plus photos hoping our kids would help sway these homeowners that they were meant to be raised in their cute house. Our house isn't even on the market (lol), but we rolled the dice and didn't even make our offer contingent on the sale of our home. We felt good about all of this. I was cautiously optimistic that we were going to get it. The offer was a good one.
We submitted our official offer by 6 p.m. and at around 11 p.m. we found out we didn't get the house. I was devastated, which was shocking given the fact that when I woke up that morning I didn't even know it existed. But I'd let myself get attached and I'd pictured us living there. In my mind, I'd started arranging the cabinets in the kitchen and decided how we were going to organize the mudroom. I was already planning how I was going to stage our house for showings and I'd decided we needed to mulch our front flower beds so they looked pretty for the listing pictures.
I didn't cry, but I thought about it.
Collins hasn't been sleeping well at all. We can't figure out what is wrong, but she'll cry and cry with a full belly and a dry diaper for seemingly no reason at all. About the time we got into bed, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the day, she started in with her crying. It went on about two hours, and finally after we'd each gone in there to try to calm her down at least half a dozen times, I told Drew I was going to put my headphones on and let her cry it out. As a tired parent there is a fine line and once it's crossed, you start to lose it.
When she finally stopped stirring around 1, we went to sleep.
At about 5 we woke up to the most insane storm I've maybe ever heard. The lightning alone was scary, but add the thunder and I was ready for the tornado sirens to start in at any second. By 5:30 our power was out, Arden was in bed with us and Collins was back to her crying and stirring. Everyone was finally able to get back to sleep by 6:30. By 7 our power had come back on and by 8 everyone was awake and ready for Easter. Needless to say, Drew and I were exhausted.
I woke up feeling a strange dread rather than excitement that it was Easter or even my birthday. I was sad about the house. It was real disappointment and a true missed expectation.
Thankfully our pastor's Easter sermon was on—you guessed it—missed expectations. I was surprised given that it was Easter, but it was so timely. In our world right now it is one missed expectation after another: layoffs, depression, hunger, canceled weddings and graduations, babies being born without their fathers in the room, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. His sermon gave me needed perspective. Missed expectations are real no matter how big or small, and on this side of heaven there will be no shortage of disappointments. Our world is a broken one, and that is why our hope is in the cross. Because He lives, we are forgiven. Because He conquered the grave, we are SAVED. This, right here and right now, is the worst of it for those who accept Jesus' gift. After this, there is nothing but the garden. Forever and ever and ever.
I tried to spend the rest of our day practicing gratefulness. For our health, our families' health, our home and how it has sheltered and protected us, seen us through high highs, low lows and everything in between.
The disappointment is still there. It still stings a bit when I let my mind drift in that direction. Maybe it will for a while, but it won't steal my joy.
Given the CRAZY storm last night, we were pleasantly surprised at the gorgeous, sunny, 75 degree day we were gifted Sunday. We got to break into our baskets first thing...
Then we watched Easter service in our jammies...thankfully Annie sent us some super cute matching PJs for the girls to wear! Their Easter best for this unique Easter Sunday...
And if I'm being honest, most of our pictures this morning looked like these two...
After church my mom dropped off donuts and hid eggs in the yard for Arden to hunt—which she did happily!
Drew let me open my present (a cute set of loungewear I asked/begged for — seemed appropriate given it's all I wear during quarantine) and gave me a stack of handwritten cards that several friends had written me for my birthday. We took our time getting dressed and went to Tropical Smoothie to grab some lunch for a picnic in the park which Arden called my "birthday party."
Someone hid these rocks all over the park today. So fun!
I fully intended to open a celebratory bottle of wine tonight, but after last night I am just so tired! Turning 28 has taken it out of me today. Haha. I cannot believe I'm 28. I actually JUST turned 27, didn't I? Speaking of... I found myself reminiscing on last year's birthday in Laguna Beach and I will share that here soon. It's definitely one I want to remember.
If you're dealing with missed expectations this year, I hope you know you aren't alone. And even in this strange season, God is writing this story. He's in control. He knows what's coming next. And do not be worried or dismayed, because as our pastor says—if it's not good, He's not done.
