9 Days to Gratitude: a Thanksgiving Novena {Day Seven}

For those of you just joining in, this is part of a series on cultivating gratitude in preparation for Thanksgiving. You can see Day One here, Day Two here,  Day Three here, Day Four here, Day Five here, and Day Six here. 

Day Seven

Today I am grateful for my home.

The spring after we bought our first home.

Our house has its share of quirks, some more serious than others (eg popcorn ceiling vs. bad wiring). It's a true "fixer-upper" if there every was one. In the past, I have thought of the long list of house projects that need to be done with a sense of frustration and annoyance. Housing prices in the Seattle area are extraordinarily inflated.  So the same house in my Missouri hometown would probably cost us a third of the price we paid for this place. I would fume (mostly to myself), "We paid how much for this money pit??" 

But, as the inspector told us, our house has good bones, and they don't make them like this anymore. Our house has probably another 20 years before it will truly be our "dream home," but isn't that how long it should take? Sometimes I forget that things done well, usually take time. It's like the difference between a piece of furniture crafted by an Amish artisan, and one you set up yourself from IKEA. We don't expect the crib we bought from IKEA to be passed down to our grandchildren. But, a home, on the other hand, is a place where you want to take your time. We daydream about what our home will be like: 

We'll finish the laundry room, and add shelving for storage. We'll re-do the kitchen so it's more of an open floor plan. We'll extend over the garage, and build a master bedroom with a double-sided fireplace. We'll add skylights and windows...

So many dreams, so many items on the to-do list. But in the meantime, I have been learning to be grateful for our house, our home, just as it is. Right now, we have more than enough space for our family of three. Enough space for me to have an office where I meet with clients privately. Enough space for a guest room/Andy's office. Enough space for love, and laughter, and life. 

I pause in my dish-washing to spy a squirrel scamper up and down our blue spruce tree, its mouth full of leaves and twigs. The squirrel knows what materials to use to build a good home, a safe haven for the winter. Today, I want to make sure that I have a mouth full of gratitude, so that I can build up my home, and provide a warm haven for my family.  

Mr. D plots his escape from the photo shoot so he can take a nap...