Today we returned from my hometown where we attended one of the most precious weddings I’ve been witness to. It rained, well poured, for the better part of their day but despite the sogginess it was stunning in its elegance and simplicity.
And when we returned home after a long journey in the car, we did not stop to relax or enjoy the mere sentiment of being home. Instead we hurried around getting our house ready for our next renovation, our kitchen remodel. It began to hit me as we moved furniture out of adjoining rooms and boxed up kitchen utensils, how much being home, is good for us.
The constancy, the repetition of the days, the comforts and even the stagnant smell only our own noses detect when life is not moving within our homes walls, are familiar and satisfying.
I love that when we return home our daughter Elizabeth gets so very excited. She just can’t hold her happiness in; it just overflows when we are home. And there’s something deeper there that gets me right deep down in my heart. The value and joy of having a constant place to be together, doing life together, that for this season will not change.
And it’s not necessarily dependent on the walls that enclose, as much as it is the familiarity of faces and the routine of the day. But it’s also the smell of the sheets, comfort of the soft chair, your self molded pillow, the things that surround.
It’s familiar. You want to be there. It protects and inspires and brings you joy.
And for that I’m thankful.
Seems just being at home, remaining in one constant place, creates a kind of safety and comfort we all long to experience.
It makes us want to stay awhile.