Which is actually news to, maybe, four of you?
It's an understatement to say we've eased ourselves into this one. It's been months in the making, but we signed on our construction loan last week, and really, there's nothing like money getting involved to make something feel real.
The reaction has been pretty much the same: "That will be so great for you, because you need a bigger house. "
I get that. Really. I do.
And yet, I feel the worms under my skin. Something that doesn't feel just right. We don't need it. We actually fit just fine into our three bedroom rental house. Sure, it can get tight, but it's hard to be a close knit family without actually being close.
So I find myself scrambling to justify. To explain. To "play it down."
"It's not going to be that big. Nothing fancy, just really plain and simple. Oh, the kids will still be sharing rooms. We just really need another bathroom, you know? Ha ha...ha...."
I'm done with that now though. When I try to justify, explain, or play it down it creates an implication of entitlement. That somehow we have earned this with our big family. With our frugal living. With our hard work.
To that I say: Bullpoo.
We never planned on this. We haven't saved and worked and earned. And even if we had, something like the privilege of building a house is never actually a given.
Unearned. Unwarranted. Undeserved.
I would be an absolute ingrate to say anything else. When I receive it as a not-totally-clear-to-me gift, then I can give it open-heartedly.
This house isn't something I can squeeze tightly in my fist and scream MINE! It isn't something I can take a big lick of so that no one else tastes it. We aren't entitled to this home, it's not a given.
It's a gift.
And what are gifts for, but to be given?
Given to people who need a soft place to land. Who need to be heard and noticed and acknowledged for who they are. Gifts are a demonstration of grace.
So, yeah, we're building a house. We're being given a gift. And you? Are always invited.