We are currently in the throws of some home reconstruction, which is wonderful and also chaotic. (see also: the reason I haven’t been writing regularly)
Sleeping on mattresses in empty rooms, our entire house packed. Only finding one shoe and never quite locating that piece of clothing you need. Six weeks of eating out and splinters in my heel from all the sanding, painting and work work work.
My daughter looked at me, with tears in her eyes, the other night. We were at her favorite restaurant and she said plainly, “I want to leave mommy. I just want to go home.”
But we don’t have a “home” right now. Not in the sense that she means. With candles lit, couch fluffed, and comfort waiting. We have walls but not the things that make you feel at ease. Our house is empty.
It’s been within the past few weeks, watching the outcome of hurricanes and wildfires, that my heart truly breaks for those who will always have that longing which my daughter expressed.
We have a home we will soon return to. They do not. I can not imagine their heartache.
May God give them peace and may He give us abundant gratefulness for all we have.
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