On Losing Our Home

The day we moved in

Seriously, what do you do when you're faced with the prospect of losing your home unexpectedly?

On Thursday night, my life became a bit more complicated.  Having come home from a meeting, I went and grabbed the mail.  Noticing a letter from Sound Transit, I tore open the envelope before I even got out of the car.  This is what I was greeted with...

You are receiving this letter prior to publication of the DEIS because Sound Transit wants to inform you as early as possible that your property at [....] has been identified as one that Sound Transit may need to partially or fully acquire in order to construct the project under one or more alternatives.

Say what?

Apparently, they may need to acquire our home in order to build the light rail that will be extending from Northgate to Lynnwood.  Our location is where they would like to put a station.  After reading more of the information that they sent us, it looks like we'll know more about their need to acquire our property by the fall or winter, but a final determination won't be made until 2016.  Construction is set to begin in 2018.

This knowledge has brought about some rather confused feelings and thoughts for us.  There's the uncertainty of the project.  There's the unknown time frame of when we'd need to be out of the house or if we will at all.  Will they want to just partially or fully acquire our property?  If partially, will we have any front yard to speak of?

Buddy and Button playing in the cul-de-sac

As you may imagine, these thoughts led to a sense of loss and the pride of ownership almost overnight.  Suddenly, nothing seems worth the trouble or cost.  For the past few years, we've tried to do one big-ish project to the house each summer.  One year it was making the fireplace usable.  Another year was insulating the shed and getting electricity out to it.  Last year we replaced our back door.  Those future big projects that we had dreamed about now will never come to fruition.  But it's not just big projects.  It's also the little ones.  You know, the ones that just kind of bug you that you want to get taken care of?  Those scratches on the hardwood floor... who cares?  Chipped paint?  It doesn't matter anyway.  The cracks in the counter.. it's just going to get demolished.  Can we just get by for another three years? Even just seeing those little blemishes are continual reminders that this house will not be here forever.

Buddy and Daddy hanging in the backyard

It's not like we even need to take care of it for the next owners or to try to boost our property value.  The house most likely has its days numbered.  No one will ever live in it again; it will probably be reduced to a pile of rubble to be hauled away and paved over for a parking lot.

Such a bizarre feeling.  We've loved this house.  It is the first house we've purchased, and we've grown to love so many aspects of it.  I love the color scheme that we are greeted with each time we open the front door.  I love the smallness of the structure that allows us to be closer as a family.  I love the big backyard that we've been able to host people in.  I love that Phil's been able to work here from home for the past four years.  I love the close-knit community of neighbors we've had here, and the cul-de-sac where my kids learned to ride their bikes.  I love the memories that we've made here.  I love that this is the only house that Button has ever known and the only one that Buddy remembers.

Pregnant with Button

When it's gone, it's gone.  There is never going to be a time in the future that we could just drop by the cul-de-sac and take a look at what future owners have done with the place.  Our address will be wiped out from public record.

There is a bright side, I suppose.  If I can just get past my nostalgia, I realize that this really could be a good thing for us.  We knew that we'd need to move eventually.  The boys will be outgrowing their tiny room, and we are already trying to be creative with storage.  I'd love to have more room for our homeschool too, although I thought that I could make do with our current set-up for quite some more time.  We also won't have to deal with any of the regular hassle of selling our home since Sound Transit will be taking care of getting the appraisal, giving us our offer, and paying all the legal fees and commissions.  It's just not going to be on our terms or time frame.

I feel like this is God's way of getting us out of our comfort zone and reminding us that our home here is only temporary.  Matthew 6:19-21 seems especially relevant...

19 Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust does corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: 20 But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust does corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: 21 For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

I don't know where God is going to lead us, but I also need to remember that we still have three years here.  And then again, maybe Sound Transit won't need our home at all.  This insecurity and unknown definitely makes us put our trust in God and to just rely on His plan for our future.