A Little Piece of Home
Most of the boxes are unpacked. While I still refer to it more often as "our new house" rather than "home", bit by bit, familiar item after familiar item, this long-awaited, long-prayed for, long-sought-after house is becoming ours. For the first time in eight months, we are surrounded by what is ours; things that are just that, things. But they are things with memories attached to them; things that bring a sense of familiarity in this entirely new surrounding. There is comfort in familiarity - like my little cactus named Jeffery who is perched by the kitchen window just as he was at home in Beulah or the over-sized blue chair where the Lord and I continue to meet over a cup of coffee each morning. There is nothing overtly special about any of these things other than that they are ours, a piece of our family history. Seeing them again, snuggling into them again, playing with them again, cooking with them again - all help bridge the past memories to the current ones.
