Hope & Love

In the back of my mind, my next blog was going to be "How to Successfully Fail at Selling Your House," because every sign was pointing to us absolutely falling down a black hole of despair.

I was going to make it funny--those of you who know me know that doom and gloom aren't really my thing (minus the above mentioned black hole of despair...that was just a weak moment).

I even bought a Saint Joseph to bury in the yard. His shipping was more than his price. Will helped put him in the garden.

Maybe he was facing the wrong direction...maybe he wasn't placed close enough to the sign...maybe he should have been right-side-up instead of upside-down.

And we forgot to pray, mainly because we aren't the praying kind.

We were 24 hours from calling our realtor to take the house off the market for good. I was perusing websites to find my consolation prize--a new couch--and preparing myself to be happy watching all of my plants bloom this summer; those plants that I have loved back to life so many times in the past six years would make me fall back in love with this house.

Friends and family were consoling me with my own words: "It happened for a reason." I was trying to convince myself that this was, in fact, true; that we weren't supposed to move now, yet; that we were meant to stay at 1611 a little longer.

And then Hope sprung.

Isn't that just like Hope? She shows up when you thought you had zero left.

So that's what we are clinging to, one more time.

I was perusing Pinterest today. In addition to renewed Hope, I find myself ogling beautiful spaces and pinning them to my "For the Home" board once again.

I came across someone I follow, who I worked with oh so long ago at the Gap.

In the last few months, I know from that other social media site worth 100 billion dollars that she has found herself in a seriously amazing relationship. There have been weddings they've attended, and vacations, and awesome dinner dates that have left her swooning.

I always read her status updates and smile.

Today on Pinterest, she pinned a wedding invitation on her board she named "Future!"

I smiled.

There was Hope again, planting herself in a happy heart.

Something tells me she is spot on with this one, that this girl I met while folding and refolding denim and sweaters has more than Hope.

She also has Love.

So should my dear Hope decide to desert us again, I know that I'll still be left with Love.

It doesn't matter where my home is; Love is always in it.