5 Minutes

Home

Home for me is my husband and kids. It's this messy house that we are perpetually renovating. It's the laundry stacked so high that you just know it's 15 loads worth waiting to be done. The funny little boy that has that big, contagious smile. The crazy little girl that says all the funniest things because she still gets words wrong like saying alligator instead of elevator. Home is the teenager who was following me around the house telling me all about his first time skiing but who normally you have to drag words out of.

Home is being able to, even at 34, go into my Mom's house and grab something out of the cupboard without asking. Even though I didn't grow up in that house.

Home is being at either of my sister's homes and knowing that if I feel like it, I can put my feet up and lay on the couch and they won't even think to think about it. It's knowing that if my kids are at one sister's house and they want to go to the other sister's house, nobody even needs to call me to tell me they switched it up. Because as long as they are with them I know they are safe and loved, and really, what else matters?

Home is becoming church. I feel real peace in that place, that building, that community of people. I feel welcome. The peace, that's big for me. I have never felt that before, that I can remember. Not really. And I can't seem to get enough of it. I think my kids feel it too. I think they feel at home there too and that helps with the peace.

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