What I wish I could tell the people looking at my home

Our home is for sale.
Don't even ask me how I keep it "show ready" with five kids. I have no idea.  I think there is bribing (kids) and massive amounts of white wine (me) involved. My dear sweet friend commented to me (after my 43rd breakdown for the day) that it sounded like I was going through some sort of grieving process over selling my home. We all know that I am prone to the dramatic. So it should really be no surprise that I am vacillating between popping the bottle of champagne and curling up in the fetal position in the closet, whispering, "Heck no, I won't go!"  I think my friend is right. I am processing and grieving. I admit my need to over process every. single. change. That is who I am. I don't "do" change well. I'm really bad at it. But, I think I have figured out what is causing me to have these feelings. So much has happened here.  As I walk through my house trying to see it through the eyes of an interested party, I see the surface things. Are there handprints on the fridge, did I mop up the juice from the floor? Is the dog laying in the mulch again? But it goes SO MUCH deeper than that.
These are the things I wish everyone touring our home could know:

1. Family has happened here! We have watched kids aged 7, 5, 3, and 10 months turn into people aged 15, 13, 11, and 9. We have had buckets of tears, truckloads of laughter, and even added to our family through adoption. Our home is busy!

2. Adoption happened here! A little girl from an orphanage across the globe learned what it means to be loved...forever. She secured her place at the table, in our arms, and in our hearts. This is where she has uttered the phrase, "I don't want you, I want my China mommy." as well as, "Mommy, I love you so much, you keep me forever?" Our home is a roller coaster!

3. Marriage has happened here! This home has seen misunderstanding, miscommunication, acts of kindness, tons of intimacy, love notes on bathroom mirrors, angry words, and soft hearts. We have walked miles of marriage in the eight years we've lived here. We've hurt each other and held each other. Our home is a sanctuary!

4. Pain has happened here! I can't even begin to process the emotional trauma that I have yet to unpack from that crazy day on February 2011. The floor of my children's room is where I bled, and prayed, and communed with a Holy God. The tornado that ripped through our home destroyed belongings, security, and sleep. But we came back. Our home is resilient.

5.  Growth happened here! Three out of five children have smushed chubby knees into family room carpet to give their lives to Jesus. We have scripture written under the walls of each room. We've hosted church small groups, friends, family, and classmates. We've prayed, loved, and stretched into people that ache to be more like Christ. Our home is holy.

How do you pack up all this life and move it to another place? How do you communicate to someone that if they choose your home, you will pray that they have at least half the joy you have had here. How do you get them to see the cookies that were baked, the teenage fears that unfolded, the snow forts that were built, the teeth that were lost, the snuggles that were given, the goodness that was held, and the gratefulness that was realized?
And then it hits me.
My biggest worry is that no one will love this place as much as I do. How could they? These are my memories, and my people. How do you assign value to that?
You don't.
You just let it go. You trust that the next home will hold all the beauty that you've already known. And that you'll add to it with more memories, more love, and more grace.
Change is hard. I was just not designed for it. But I have been around the block long enough to know that change is a necessary part of life. So, I will soak up this place for as long as we are here and know that something hard and beautiful is probably just around the corner. :)