A beautiful antique buffet with a chalkboard that has "gratitude" etched on it, a sign above that says "Never Give Up" and then a smaller version of my birds on a wire that says "HOME" right under it.
A handmade quilt gifted from the Lake County Quilters Guild thrown over the borrowed couch.
The sounds of laughter and teenagers echoing throughout the house, punctuated by the occasional yip of our dogs.
These are my blessings counted.
A house becoming a home.
Provision, warmth, laughter... when I wondered once upon a time if I'd ever truly laugh again, or feel at home.
It's still not there. There are still the little parts of it that are not mine. Not our home. But it will come.
After all, it isn't the contents. It isn't the walls. It is the inhabitants that paint a house with "home". It's the memories etched from sliding down a stair, or the groove in the floor from that one time we hauled furniture across a floor. It's the leaky faucet that only we know how to tighten... just so... half twist to the left..
It's the floorboard that creaks and gives away a midnight snack raid upstairs.
Those memories will come.
This house will be home. And any others that God places us in.
14 years ago we became family. We celebrated last night the memory of that day.... and remembered the word spoken over us.... that we would be able to withstand.... the capacity to handle would ever be expanded. From that wedding night wreck that we miraculously survived... to the recent trial by fire.... one thing is certain.... home is wherever God puts us together.
Blessings counted. Gratitude, appreciation, and a thankful heart. These are what sustain me, and remind me of the God Who sees, knows, and loves well.
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