The Happy House
I had a dream that my husband and I were looking to buy a house and we found one we really liked. The only problem with this particular house was that the previous owner had written “happy” across the front of the house in thick white paint. In my dream, we discussed painting over it, and we questioned why anyone would do such a thing, especially before putting it on the market.
That was it. That was my dream.
When I woke up, it got me thinking.
What would you find in a “happy” house?
What is it about my own home that brings me happiness?
The puppy that I didn’t ask for my husband found on a busy highway. A Pit Bull that needed constant training and supervision but having the sweetest personality of any dog I ever owned. Ever protective and fierce, yet so very loving. This Dog makes me happy.
It’s raining. The house is chilly as I wander downstairs to make my first cup of coffee. I quickly make it to my green velvet chair in the corner of our living room. Every morning I sit in this chair by a big window under a warm overhead lamp that shines perfectly over my books. From start to finish, my Morning Routine makes me happy.
Space To Wonder.
Time To Enjoy.
Margins make me happy.
Having time built into my day to dream, think, organize and act are intentional efforts. There are new things to learn, work to do. Breathing Room in this home to simply be Present and prepare without rush or panic makes me happy.
When I fall asleep at night, I am next to my best friend, my most favorite person in the whole world, my Husband. The comfort I have knowing we are in this life partnering together in everything we do gives me a confidence that things will be alright, and the way our relationship balances the tasks of creating and maintaining a home and a family is a part of a grand design. The Design Of Marriage and the Husband of my youth makes me happy.
Now, the rain is really coming down. I am still dry, warm, and cozy in my chair sipping my second cup of coffee. I am in solitude and silence, thanksgiving welling up in my heart. In the Kitchen I hear the Oven ding, letting me know it is preheated. I am ready to cook some Saturday Morning Bacon for my hungry Boys sleeping in their beds upstairs. That thought makes me so happy.
Happiness is a feeling that is often associated with people, places, and traditions. The mundane yet important routines and little comforts that I’ve grown to count on and enjoy often emphasize those people, places, and traditions I love most.
It’s all Grace. From the smallest to the most obvious, all are gifts, all are mercies.
Of course, happiness isn’t always isolated from heartache and loss, struggle or disappointment. Can’t it be true that some things can coexist even when they seem so completely opposite?
Yet, when I pause and reflect, counting my blessings as I consider those mercies that are new every morning, I can see “happy” written across my house and learn to accept all things as grace with gratitude.
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