This weekend so much happened… simply put it was a weekend full of emotions that were up and down. We saw a house that we thought may work for us. As we walked back to our car, our agent got a page saying there is an offer on the house. I am not going to whine. I am only going to say that I have really left this with God. I am trusting and believing that He has a plan and is in complete control. Am I disappointed? Yes.

Sanj grew up in a few houses. He does not like change. He does not handle moving from house to house even though it is just the next step, usually as we outgrow a house or our needs change. Quite frankly, he hates it. He gets upset with me saying, “Won’t you miss our home? How come you are not attached.”

The first 18 years of my life I lived in 22 different houses. My mom is here visiting. We counted them together. All I can say is my father was a wanderer. But this is not about him. I did not get attached to things such as houses, cars, stuff. I never really had the same things for very long.

Home for me is where I am safe and loved. I can feel home pretty much anywhere. Home for me is where my family is. Home for me is where I feel comfortable and relaxed. Yesterday was the Dragon Boat Festival, raising money and awareness for breast cancer. We had a team from Rhema… there was a tent where the team members hung out. I felt at home. I feel at home at Rhema. I can just jump in and do dishes, hang out with friends and watch my kids play.

A house is not a home. I have been to many houses where there is just chaos. Or where they are waiting to finish this project etc… for me, no matter what house we live in, as long as Sanj and the boys are there, we make it home. I can not live in chaos. I can’t wait to live in the perfect house. I need to live now. I need to be happy now. I need to make memories now.
A house is just a house. It is what you fill it with… love, noise, family, friends that makes it home.

I know that as we look at homes to buy, I see so many “stuck” in the 70s and 80s. A home buyers worst nightmare. Yet I can’t help but think it must be heaven to children coming home. We went to a friend’s parents house… it was amazing. It was her childhood home. Pale pinks and baby blues… you know what I mean. Floral patterned sofas with crocheted doilies. Lamps you touch to turn on. I loved it! Her home was just as she remembers it as a child. Home.

As much as I want this for my children, for us to find THE home that will “get stuck” in this era, I want them to feel at home wherever they are. I want them to know who they are and feel secure inside. To always feel “home” wherever they are with our love firmly entrenched. Never will they feel lost or as a wanderer. They will always know where HOME is.

We will found our house, I am sure. But we are always at home. We are always carrying home with us as long as we are together. It feels so GOOD to be home!

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