I think it's a coping technique when we embark on something new and aren't sure how it will turn out, we make plans.
Nine months ago when we moved into our friends' basement, I was extremely nervous to live with other people. I'm an introvert..so my coping mechanism was to make plans for family dinners all of us would have together, plans for game nights and movie nights the adults would partake in after the kids went to bed. Plans for dozens of adorable Pinterest activities the kids would do together and outings they would go on. I imagined our time together in a way that made me able to move in because on the inside, I was terrified.
But then life happened.
Zac was either working or working on the house. I was in the last weeks of pregnancy and could barely get up the stairs to the one shared living space: the kitchen. The kids were fighting more than they were playing. The beautiful never ending playdate I had imagined wasn't happening. Reality didn't look anything like what I envisioned for our time living together.
But what did happen was even better.
I learned to rejoice in the gift of company rather than be overwhelmed with the day-to-day living. The kids learned hard lessons about sharing and patience. The few family dinners we did have together were cherished. The adults began to talk openly and honestly about the difficulties of having two families under one roof. We prayed for each other's kids and marriages and futures with conviction because we saw firsthand what was weighing on them. We came alongside each other to ease the burden when one of us was sick, overwhelmed, underwhelmed, or in need of a break. When the stress of long stretches of single-parenting and building the tiny house became all-consuming, they picked up the assignment like it was their own.
In the seven months we lived together, I saw this family sacrifice over and over again because they believed just as wholeheartedly as we did in the Calling that was placed on our lives. In the days when I didn't believe in it, or couldn't believe in it, they believed in it for us. They found joy in it when I refused to. They breathed life into it when we had nothing left to give.
The hardest part of leaving this family who housed us for the better part of 2015, was leaving them without having an opportunity to experience a period of rest together. We worked tirelessly until the bitter end, right up until the tiny house pulled out of the yard in the dark morning hours on November 25, 2015.
These friends became family during those seven months and the friendships we formed will far outlast the house we built.
Maybe you've found yourself in a season that hasn't turned out the way you imagined it. Maybe its been more emotional, stressful or harder than you planned. Maybe it's lasting longer than you hoped and you can't find joy in it because you don't know if there's an end date. Let me encourage you... don't let your vision for this time keep you from enjoying the present. The memories being made right in front of you will far surpass your vision if you let them.