Slow Goodbyes: The Office

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I've almost made my way through our entire house, slowly saying goodbye to each room and what it has meant to me. Today I bid a fond farewell to another room that means so much to me, and that's my beloved home office.

Back when Grandma and Grandpa lived here, this was a spare bedroom, and not just a spare bedroom, but my spare bedroom. This was where I slept when I spent the night! {Once I got old enough that I didn't need to sleep on the "davenport" surrounded by dining room chairs.} I would tuck into the tall bed that seemed to swallow me up compared to my little twin at home, and I'd sleep until the morning sun crept into the room around the edges of the rolled blinds.

This was the room where I was sleeping the night my Grandpa died, actually. I'd spent the night with Grandma, and I remember waking up to her turning on the light and telling me to get up and get dressed...we had to go to the hospital. I was in one of those groggy-post-sleep-what's-my-name states and put on my clothes {shirt inside out, actually} and stumbled to the driveway where my aunt picked us up to drive us to the hospital.

When I shared this house with roommates, it felt appropriate to me that this room should be mine. The room where I'd slept as a visitor would now be mine as an adult. So I moved my measly twin bed inside and relished life in my own grown up bedroom. I would sleep until noon in that room, waking up to turn on the old thirteen inch TV perched on an old baker's rack at the end of my bed. I'd stretch out with a couple of cats and a pile of Bibles and journals and do my devotions or study for Sunday School in that room.

Like all other bedrooms in this house, that one served a hodge-podge of purposes throughout the years, and for the last six or seven, it's been my home office.

My dad graciously built shelves for me - floor to ceiling, wall to wall simple shelves that held my menagerie of books, and now they just sit, waiting for Ryan to disassemble them and move them to our new house. I wrote my most recent book manuscript in this room, poring over every single page and laboring, doing spiritual warfare as I wrote each word.

While Ryan is not a writer {actually he's a very good writer, but he hates doing it}, we've spent many hours in that room together, faced off at our shared desk, each of us doing our own version of work, sipping coffee and enjoying each other's company.

I am so excited for our office at our new house. I can envision it and yet I can't. I can see where the shelves will fit, and yet I can't quite imagine it until we're there. But I'm excited. I'm excited for a brand new view out the window, excited for all the words that will pour out of me in that room, excited for a new office chapter.

And I am so grateful for all the beautiful memories in this room - from the years it was my bedroom to the years it was my office, it was always a good room. One filled with much prayer. May the new office carry the same legacy!