My house. That's all it used to be. A house. I just couldn't feel at home. Constant struggle. Constant warfare. And in this last couple of years, it has taken all that I have to push forward. To clean out. To clean up. To move past. Some people get to just move on. Move out. And that has it's own difficulties. But, I've had to stay. To work through it.
I've been in the same bedroom. I have some of the same furniture. I get mad when I think about the loveseat that I gave him that matches my sofa. Aggravating. Not life ending...just it makes it harder to set up the furniture in the family room.
And this is a big property. A big house. One floor...but a little over 3000 square feet. Of course, it's harder to keep up with when my boys are home. Constant barrage of dishes. Of clothes. Of trash. Of stuff. But...totally worth it. :)
And frankly, for the longest time, I just couldn't settle in. I tried. I forced myself to do the best I could. But today, as I cleaned and put things around my room, I kind of had a sense of home. Of belonging. What a relief. A gift. Made me feel better. Helped my heart. I brought in pics of the family to my bedroom. I go through stuff all of the time. Too. Much. Stuff. Cray how it piled up over the years. Time for it to go. At least some of it. But with a lot of kids, it just keeps accumulating.
However, it feels different today. Feels a bit like my home. Not just my house. Not just where I am for my kids. Home. Not completely. But still....pretty wonderful feeling. I stopped to enjoy it. To revel in it. I realize that feelings like that are fleeting in this healing stage in which I find myself. Gotta enjoy them while they last. And remember them when it's hard....when the bad memories kick back in. Life does change. It does get better. I do get to choose how I view this place.
Worked hard today. Doesn't feel like I did that much. Kind of all over the place. That's ok. It's improving bit by bit.
I think that I'll pray room by room again soon. For peace. For kindness to dwell here. For hope. For love. For faith. For goodness. For purpose. For serving.
My home. Those words feel pretty good.
I've been in the same bedroom. I have some of the same furniture. I get mad when I think about the loveseat that I gave him that matches my sofa. Aggravating. Not life ending...just it makes it harder to set up the furniture in the family room.
And this is a big property. A big house. One floor...but a little over 3000 square feet. Of course, it's harder to keep up with when my boys are home. Constant barrage of dishes. Of clothes. Of trash. Of stuff. But...totally worth it. :)
And frankly, for the longest time, I just couldn't settle in. I tried. I forced myself to do the best I could. But today, as I cleaned and put things around my room, I kind of had a sense of home. Of belonging. What a relief. A gift. Made me feel better. Helped my heart. I brought in pics of the family to my bedroom. I go through stuff all of the time. Too. Much. Stuff. Cray how it piled up over the years. Time for it to go. At least some of it. But with a lot of kids, it just keeps accumulating.
However, it feels different today. Feels a bit like my home. Not just my house. Not just where I am for my kids. Home. Not completely. But still....pretty wonderful feeling. I stopped to enjoy it. To revel in it. I realize that feelings like that are fleeting in this healing stage in which I find myself. Gotta enjoy them while they last. And remember them when it's hard....when the bad memories kick back in. Life does change. It does get better. I do get to choose how I view this place.
Worked hard today. Doesn't feel like I did that much. Kind of all over the place. That's ok. It's improving bit by bit.
I think that I'll pray room by room again soon. For peace. For kindness to dwell here. For hope. For love. For faith. For goodness. For purpose. For serving.
My home. Those words feel pretty good.
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