Friday, March 08, 2013


When my husband said he was feeling God nudge him and tell him that we needed to move back to my hometown I was sad instead of elated. I had lived in the same house for 27 years before I married him and he swept me 1300 miles away. That first year was hard, but I finally felt like I belonged. I finally felt like I was home.

Moving back was even more difficult than I ever thought it would be. There was death, broken promises, unemployment, drug addiction, a runaway many hard things that I couldn't help but feel like we had made a terrible mistake moving back here.

And that thought, those feelings lasted until a year ago when I finally decided that it wasn't where I was or what house I lived in that made it home, but who I was with, who filled the rooms with laughter, love and blessings.

It was frustrating that it took 6 years for us to be able to change the furniture, the layout, the decor of the house we are renting. It just never felt like we belonged.

But, now that we have brought a little bit of ourselves into this house, it finally feels more like home.

And I love being home more than other place in the whole world.  

Link your Five Minute Friday post to LisaJo's blog!

1 comment:

Amber Cadenas said...

Wow, what a journey. I have felt that frustration, of why did this take so long to realize, but friend... how sweet that you are grasping these things you write so beautifully of. You are grasping home, and this, it sounds, is so healing. Bless you, from another FMF-er :-)

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