Have you ever wanted something so badly that you can feel it in your bones? Maybe you close your eyes and you’re right there, where you want to be or doing what you love. For the past two years I’ve had a dream (one that’s almost unobtainable) and it has almost consumed me. Is it obsessive if you’re awake at 3 am and dreaming of it, whatever it is? Maybe as soon as you started reading this something came to mind and you know exactly what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ve already accomplished your dream and you think back to how it felt when it was just at your fingertips. Whatever the case, I am going crazy over my family’s little farmhouse and few acres.
At just twelve miles outside of town, sitting on ten acres, there is a little farmhouse and fabulous barn just begging someone to bring it back to life. It needs a little TLC, a lot of elbow grease, and someone with a big vision. That someone just happens to be me. My mom and her sisters have had the little piece of property on the market for years, getting the frequent call on a potential buyer. And with each call I feel a little blow to my heart. Don’t get me wrong; it isn’t that I don’t want it to sell to the benefit of my family, I just wish it was going to be sold to me.
Whenever a house isn’t lived in, it goes downhill so fast. It is evidence of a broken window, a birds nest on the wall, a crack in the ceiling and a falling foundation. Enough to make someone walk away and say it’s best to start from the ground up. But not me. I hate any type of DIY but yet I envision myself re-doing this house? It honestly makes no sense. And yet, here I am with this feeling of deep connection to this farm and grieving the thought of it selling.
Best case scenario Joanna and Chip choose to feature it on their now discontinued show…I mean can you see how unrealistic this is? But yet I sit, imagining the kitchen with shiplap on the walls, a farmhouse sink, with a new pane in the window looking out over the field. I see Josie with the chickens and hobby goats down by the barn, our little calf, Faline, grazing by the fence. Someone stop me. Cody has made it clear he isn’t, or ever will be, interested in the place.
It isn’t bad enough that I’ve dedicated an entire Pinterest board to Farmhouse Décor but that I’ve obsessively followed other’s on their journey to redoing an old farmhouse. One IG profile in particular, I have watched a woman on her journey of taking an old farmhouse and completely stripping it, and with it her own life. She created the hashtag #ahouseGodisbuilding and it has been so neat seeing her compare an old house to a heart. With the renovation of her home, she parallels it to the ways God is moving in her heart. Tearing down walls, putting up new paint; a complete renovation. It is a beautiful comparison and after following along I have asked God to do the same in my own heart. Ripping out the parts that don’t belong anymore, replacing the old and tarnished with new and shiny. This post certainly isn’t about her journey but it deserves the attention.
Perhaps I am envisioning myself in that old house because I can’t bear the thought of it leaving the family. My great-grandfather built it from the ground up, hand digging the wells and cellar. But I don’t really think that is it. I love the family history, knowing that my grandfather was born there, but it is deeper still. It’s hard to drive to the property and see the house dilapidated and only getting worse still, knowing that in it’s prime it was so beautiful. To see the potential just lying there, being wasted, is hard to accept.
While I know that living in that farmhouse for myself is highly unlikely in my future, and even owning it and renting it out is further out of the picture, I hold the dream in my heart, in my hands. So, if anyone is interested in buying it and sharing my vision, let me know! In the meantime, I’m trying to push it out of my head. Could it be a God-given dream though, if it’s buried this deep in my heart?