Good acoustics, wood walls, and missing Daddy

The house is near completion y'all... They installed the toilet and faucets today so if there was a bed, I could legitimately live there. Which is odd... Because I'm about to be the 4th generation of my family to live in this house. Pap and Mamaw Ruth, Mom and Daddy, Mawmaw and Pawpaw Cole, and me. It's such a blessing to be in this position, and it isn't one I take lightly, but there is an unexplainable and overwhelming desire I feel for some reason. Desire to make those that have lived there proud... Desire to maintain the esteem and care of the Robertson and Cole family of this land... I want them to like and approve of what I'm doing, and thankfully I have my mama to tell me thy she does.... But I truly ache in my desire to have my daddy by my side in this. There are so many times throughout this process I have needed his opinion, his wisdom, his practicality. I want to know what he thinks about the paint color, the floors, the tile... Because it was his home too. Because frankly if it wasn't for my relationship with my daddy and how much I miss him, I probably wouldn't have taken on this project. 

Tonight I took Rhett down to the house because I want him to start getting used to our new home. As we walked around the house I started singing... And I don't know about y'all, but when I'm in a house by myself I sing loud! As I marveled at the excellent acoustics and laughed at wondering what they (grandparents and great grandparents) would thinking of my using their house as my own karaoke bar, I sat and looked at the progress, the changes that have been made that I adore (the wood walls are my favorite), and I began singing the song daddy wrote called "When Time is No More..."

" ... When time is no more, in Heaven we'll be. We'll sing and rejoice, at our Savior's feet. I'll never be late or worried again, when time is no more in a land, in a land without sin." 

As I think of that now, hours later, maybe that was daddy telling me not to worry about it... They are focused in praising and rejoicing at the Savior's feet, not whether or not they like my choice of pinwheel tile in the bathroom. 

I guess that was his message to me - not to worry about their approval and make it my own (I love when realizations come as I write a blog)... Doesn't make me miss him and those opinions any less, but I'll take it. 

My wooden walls I love... 

Rhett taking a break from sniffing out our new house. 

Lesson learned daddy/Daddy. Thanks. 

Love y'all, 

Kacey