For the Love of Being Home

My home is my heaven on earth. It is the place where the pace is my own, where memories of children running up and down the hallway full of excitement, touches my heart each and every day. It is the place where my children still refer to as home. It is the place where every afternoon as the sun sinks in the east, the man of my dreams will come through the front door and say, "Hi Darling, I'm home." and he will steal a kiss and then sniff the air to see if he can guess what is for supper. This small old house of ours is where my feet hardly ever feel the confinement of shoes on and where windows are open to the sunshine and where the snap and pop of a wood stove keeps me company on cold winter mornings. It is the place where sick children fevers have been soothed with cold compresses and gentle kisses. Where countless stories have been read at bedtime and prayers been said. It is the place where wonderful meals have been cooked and laughter around the table has filled each inch of space.

It is the place where I can sit in silence or dance with the stereo up loud. It is the place I love the most on earth.

My two new windows in the kitchen have kicked this love up several notches. This morning as I made breakfast on a counter top now flooded with sunshine, I felt as if the history of this house became alive. I stood there in silence, smelling the old wood that has recently been exposed and looked around at my rather old fashioned kitchen, that lacks any stainless steel appliances or fancy counter tops. There is not a dishwasher to be found besides me and my hands. A kerosene lamp sits right in the middle of a big round table, much like the one Emery had growing up on the farm and all I could think was to count my blessings for this wonderful simple home that is like a dear friend to me.

I love staying home because this is my favorite place to be. Strange to me that on occasion it seems that folks think I must be depressed or something because I have no desire to go out every day and shop or spend weekends in some fancy hotel where the sheets don't smell like sunshine and there is no big old feather mattress that gently hugs you all night long.

This little house of ours with its low ceilings and floors that seem to slope down in a couple corners is so full of love that being here reminds me that I have every single thing I need in life.

And better than having all that I need, I have all that I want too. A husband that I love so deeply and loves me just as deeply. Children that are wonderful, kind people that love us as much as we love them and now grandbabies that give so much love it can't even be put into words.
Contentment keeps me home where love really does grow.