Overflowing

As I rounded the final corner towards my house on my drive home yesterday, I thought, "I am so thankful to live here."  Unexpectedly, the tears flowed.  My gratitude for my home wouldn't and couldn't stay inside.  My heart swelled like a water-filled balloon on a hot day.

I am thankful the location is closer to all the other things I do.  I am thankful I know my neighbors are literally just around the corner.  The amount of comfort and peace I get from having friends for neighbors cannot be measured with any tool. 

I love cleaning my house, partly because I can.  It isn't so big that an hour or two of cleaning barely makes a dent.  The only dirt I have to clean is the dirt we actually made.  I never have to clean dirt that someone left behind and has made a permanent home in the woodwork.

I love being in my house. I feel peaceful and calm.  I never look around and sigh because something is more difficult than it needs to be.  Walking in the door grounds me.  The stress and worries of the day fall off at the threshold. 

My sick days were easier because I was here.  I didn't have to maneuver stairs.  I didn't have to worry about hauling wood and starting a fire to keep myself warm.  I didn't have to be stranded far from home.

This is the first time in 21 years of marriage that I am in a home I can see myself in for a very long time.  There is nothing trying to tug me away.  There is nothing trying to make me search for a new journey.

I hope you have something that brings you home.  I hope you have something that brings you comfort.  I hope you have something that lets you take off your shoes.  I hope you have peace in the busy moments in your life.  I hope you find a place of calm and joy no matter the storm going on around you.  I hope the lightning stays away.  I hope the rain lets you stay dry.  I hope when you see the snow outside it brings peace and calm and quiet in the busy moments of your soul.