We said goodbye to Dekist Street almost two weeks ago. Gosh, it feels like so long ago! It was a Sunday afternoon and we went to gather the last of our things, sweep the floors, and leave our keys. As I swept, tears dripped down my cheeks as I remembered how many prayers we voiced over our boys. How many jobs we asked God to provide, and how many struggles He carried us through. The birthdays and the question games and the backyard water fights. Swinging on the back porch while contemplating big decisions, too. Mostly I remembered that we believed God in our little red house, and He was faithful. More than half of our family life was built on Dekist Street, and I am grateful for my well of sweet memories. And now it’s on to a new place. New memories, new routines, new relationships. And more believing God, you can be sure.
The goodbye day ended with an impromptu snowball fight with our favorite neighbors. It was perfect. Perfect.