Finding Your Way Forward

I changed my mind at the last minute and decided to go.

Last weekend was the annual holiday home tour in my old neighborhood. 

The place where I thought I’d always live. The historic artsy community where I moved after my sister got married and I sold the condo we’d shared. 

Where I thought I’d found the perfect house — not an old one with too many repairs for a single gal like me to tackle  — but a new one that was slated to be built on an empty lot where the builder said I could choose everything just how I wanted it.

It was my own little dream bungalow, new but made to look old to fit in with the neighborhood. 

After six months of watching it come to life {and worrying if I'd really like all of my selections once they were installed} I moved in.

I loved my house and was excited to be a part of the community. To jump right in, I served on the historic board. 

I even agreed to have my house on tour one year, although I had no idea the monumental amount of work it would take to have all of my halls decked by the first weekend in December.

More than 500 people strolled through my house that weekend, and I was surprised at the opinions strangers feel compelled to offer you about your house and decor. 

{Or tell their friends in not-so-quiet undertones, somehow thinking you can’t hear them.}

But I sold that house and moved 30 miles across town seven years ago.

Sometimes I go back to take the holiday tour, but it's kind of bittersweet. I'm not sure how I feel about seeing my old house and former friends and neighbors. 

My life was a little different when I lived there since places often have their own style, a unique personality that enfolds its residents.

But it seemed as if that neighborhood was a diamond in the rough, in transition, perched on the edge of up-and-coming, but was never quite able to turn the corner.

Maybe you can relate to those thoughts and feelings. Do you ever think about going back? To a certain place, a former occupation, a group of friends, or a way of life?

Maybe the way ahead of you is harder now and you remember how easier things seemed back where you once were. But you’ve gone deeper, lived riskier.

You've survived some serious dents in your faith. You've come through the storms that rained out your dreams.

And you rose above the circumstances and predicaments that deflated your hopes.

You’re braver, determined and purposeful, yet more flexible and even softer because now you realize where your strength lies.

I'm wondering if going back to where we came from has less of a pull because the new road we’re traveling although more difficult, holds greater gifts?

An opportunity to see the sacred work being done in us to be made holy. 

A chance to desire transformation in our weak areas that develops our character. 

Time to appreciate our flawed selves and grow grateful for the treasure buried deep inside all of us.

Sometimes there is no going back, and really, why would we want to? 

There’s nothing behind us that can’t be found in moving ahead.

After touring my old neighborhood, I stood on the sidewalk in front of my old house. 

It was still painted the cream and khaki colors I'd chosen for the exterior. The little lantern light I'd picked out still hung beside the front door.

The new owner had painted the door dark green and added a white picket fence. But the flowers I’d spent so much time caring for and the sturdy hibiscus trees that I liked so much that flanked my front porch were gone.

It all looked so familiar and yet it didn't. I found it hard to believe I'd once lived there.

But the historic school, built in 1902, one block from my old house, is now in the midst of being restored.

The new owners want to transform the old schoolhouse into an event venue that the community can use to host weddings, gatherings and social events. 

The plans for it look fantastic. It's just what the neighborhood needs.

Maybe my old neighborhood is finally poised for a renaissance, ready to turn the corner.

It was nice seeing my old neighbors and catching up with them as I visited homes on the holiday tour. 

My former across-the-street neighbor told me she's not as fond of the new owner of my house as she was of me, but she guesses people have to move on.

She's right. I think I’m already on the road ahead, making my way forward.

{And I hope you are too!}


A little note on the photos: Thanks to my friends and neighbors in Sanford who allowed me to take photos of their lovely homes!

I'm having coffee with my friends at Holley Gerth's place at Coffee for your Heart. Join me there for more posts from my blogger friends!