The Waiting Game

Patience is not my strong point. I'm the kind of person who when I want or need something done, expect it done now - or at the very least, sooner rather than later (now is better though). So you can imagine my frustration by the fact that we have been house-hunting for over three years, and are still no closer to a forever home.

When we first started searching the property pages, it was because it was the done thing. We were approaching out first wedding anniversary, and had been asked to move out of the flat we were renting because it had been sold to someone who wanted to live in. We thought instead of renting again we would try to buy. It was one of those things I was supposed to have ticked off my list by the age of 28. We didn't find anything right then, and seeing as though we had to move somewhere, we rented a new place. Our current place.

The following year we started looking again. We had just found out I was pregnant with Zac, and we wanted to give our child roots (as though roots can only be established by a bond - the mortgage type). I wanted a nursery to decorate without having to consider what the landlord would think or whether or not it could be undone later, and a garden we could invest in, plant herbs in, and set play things up in.

By the time Zac was due we were no closer to finding a new home. By that point I was secretly grateful. The thought of having to move house at 30-anything weeks' pregnant was not appealing, and I thought we'd get something soon enough. Well, it took a little longer than that. Despite our best efforts to save on the stair gate by buying a house (I know, it makes no sense), by Zac's first birthday he was expertly navigating the stairs, up and down without a single incident. Still in our current place.

Fast forward to the present and we are still looking for that forever home with the nursery (ok, now it's a big boy room - but it's the same principle), the garden, and some extra things (like room for Andel's cycling paraphernalia currently sharing a room with Zac).

We've sent countless house enquiries, and honestly have probably viewed close to 100 houses. I didn't keep count. I genuinely didn't think it would take this long. Truthfully, I'm tired of this: of looking, and offering, and waiting, and starting all over again. Sometimes I really feel like we're never going to move out (up?) into a place that we can call ours. It's hard to remain positive.

But I have to remember that I have a Father who knows my name and my needs. Each time we think we've lost out on the perfect house for us - be it because of price, other offers, or dodgy agents - a couple houses later God shows us something better. And when I'm thinking clearly, I know that I have already experienced first hand that you don't need a bond to grow roots, or a house to build a home.

When I next complain about the latest house-related disappointment, please feel free to remind me of that...