The house where Ryan and I lived the last 20 months is no longer home. We will no longer have friends to visit or be together there as a family. However, tonight I'm at home. I'm staying with my friend Angela. Her two little boys are in bed, and she is out running an errand. Her husband is at work. My heart is content. I know and love this family. People are what makes a place home.
After Ryan and his friend Chris left with the moving truck this morning, I washed all of the laminate floors throughout our house. The walls have been washed, and the lawn is trimmed. It looks like a pleasant place to live. However, the lump in my throat reminds me that I am not at home. I'm alone in that place. And so I gratefully accept invitations to stay with others... so I can be home.
I'm very thankful that even in that empty house I have gentle kicks from my baby within reminding me that she's there. In the silence and emptiness, I was aware of the Lord's presence much more clearly than normal. I hope that in my times alone there, I will grow more in love with my baby and my God.
In the last couple days, my appreciation for a home with loved ones has grown considerably. I'm looking forward to many nights in the next two weeks spent in the homes of friends. I want to enjoy their presence and companionship as I wait in this season of transition.
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