I’ve mentioned several times recently that we were looking at houses, seriously considering a move into town. This wasn’t an abrupt decision; it’s one we’ve toyed with for a long time. Due to increased traffic, Perry’s 52 mile daily commute (that’s 52 miles each way) has crept from 50 minutes to 75 minutes or more. Over the course of the last nine years, that’s a lot of lost time.
So this time when Perry asked what I thought about moving to town, I tried to restrain my knee jerk reaction. I like living in the country, and adjusting to having nearby neighbors will take time, but country living comes at a high cost. Instead of cringing at the loss of privacy and the house we built together and the amazing view and the deer in the front yard, I told him that I would be happy where God put us. If he thought he’d be happier in town, I knew I could be happy there too.
You know what? Once I had resolved to have a good attitude, my entire outlook changed. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.
Perry wasn’t the only one losing hours in his day. As the kids get older, we find ourselves with more and more activities in town. And as our family grows and appetites increase, it’s becoming necessary to go to town just for groceries more and more often.
Country living is a grand thing, but the cost in gas, time and auto maintenance had become pretty grand, too, and over time we began to question whether it was the best stewardship of the resources God has given us.
Living so far out also puts a big damper on fellowship. It’s hard to get people to make the drive, and I have to admit to a twinge of guilt every time I ask them. In the same spirit, I can’t help but see dollar signs whenever we receive an invitation. It’s terrible, but it’s true. You want us to come for dinner? That’s very generous of you to feed 12 guests, but it’s also going to cost us $30-40 in gas. I hate thinking that way, but somebody has to fill the gas tank.
And inextricably tied into the fellowship issue is our church. Our church is in town, along with nearly all of our church friends and church activities. It’s hard to be deeply involved in a church that is an hour away, or with a church family that is an hour away. We wanted – needed – to be geographically closer.
And so we started looking at houses. It wasn’t the first time we’ve taken a look at what was available in the San Antonio area, but it may have been the first time we were serious about it.
cont’d here: Househunting: disappointment (part 2)