Wisdom Comes Suddenly

Here.

January 12th, 2015 · 3 Comments

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I stepped out into the bitter cold evening last week to call the girls in from sledding, and this view greeted me in my back yard. Wow. I’m just so happy to be here.

I felt the strong urge for a fresh start for what seemed an eternity. The wait made it so hard, and so sweet.

This past year felt like a trip that wouldn’t end. And yet, breathing in the 3 degree air, there was no place on earth I’d rather be, and the journey is just a memory now.

I clean the floors, and I’m happy to be here. I reorganize shelves for the 10th time, and I’m happy to be here. My fresh start is even better than I dreamed it would be, and I am changed by its arrival.

Life is the same. Sara is still just as challenged, and has good days stacked between bad ones. I’m starting to think her medical and educational decision making will always be the rock in my gut; there is always an issue needing a creative solution. Kelly is as stinker-y as any 7 year old could be, and no matter how hard I work at seeing her, it may never be enough. Greg works hard, and never stops thinking and learning. Sometimes I wonder if his brain studies in his sleep. Last week he taught himself a little computer engineering by ordering a kit and writing code…you know…in his free time. Just for fun.

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The family is the same, but here, I am different. I am lighter. I am more present than I felt before. I am far less bothered by undecorated rooms and empty mantels than I thought I would be. I am less encumbered by scattered worries and wasteful wishing.

Here, I feel more patient, more content. There is a slight return of a flexibility I had long ago. I feel…spontaneous and sure-footed. It’s like the Universe opened up a treasure chest of goodness and dumped it on my head. Winds have blown the cobwebs out of my emotional attic.

A wise counselor once told Greg I’m the type of person who strongly connects to a home, and I either connect wholeheartedly, or not at all. If I don’t connect, the only answer is to move. No amount of paint or remodeling will change it, and it has nothing to do with how large/fancy/ornate a home is. It’s simply a feeling. I wanted her to be wrong, but I knew she wasn’t. And every morning as I open the blinds, I feel it in my soul. And every evening, as I close the blinds, I know it to be true.

Here. I connected immediately to the feeling of here, and every breath feels aligned with the next. Do tell…are you the kind of person who gets emotional about homes? Or can you make anyplace you land a place of comfort? Godspeed to your week everyone! Share your thoughts…I’d love to chat!

Tags: The Girls

3 responses so far ↓

  • 1 Grammie Pat // Jan 12, 2015 at 2:33 pm

    “The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”

    Maya Angelou

  • 2 The Momma // Jan 12, 2015 at 2:37 pm

    Maya always knew just how to say it.

  • 3 Michelle // Jan 13, 2015 at 7:04 am

    I am a PK. My dad pastored several churches during my childhood. We lived the longest in a town in Kentucky and owned our own home there (other churches provided a parsonage). I always said I wouldn’t move my family around that much. We’ve stayed in central Indiana, but I’ve not yet found a house that says “home”. Here’s hoping the one we’ve been in six months will soon feel like a forever home. So glad you are content now.