The Old Home Place

If you, like me, were raised in the same place all your life, you know what the old home place means.

The house I was raised in (partly till I was seven and my grandparents moved to the country, then fully when we moved into their house), is usually the house I dream about when my dream involves being at 'home'.

It is obviously deeply ingrained in my heart as well as my brain. The two front rooms, which was the original part of the house, was occupied at one time before my grandmother's birth (in 1900) by her parents.

But yesterday, as I was walking from the garage to our house, I noticed that the house was looking like a home place. The plants are all mature and settled, lots of roses blooming as well as other flowering plants. The earth doesn't look raw, the trees are big, the house looks kept up, but as though it's been there for a while.

Home.

Until yesterday, I still considered us as living in a new house. I know, I know, we moved in 30 years ago this month. But for me, time has gone by so swiftly, I am no longer logical about its passing.

We watched the house go up, we furnished it, we planted, we nourished, we raised a child. We loved dogs and cats, we enjoyed company of all shapes and sizes. Santa has come and gone over twenty times. We've seen dogwoods bloom, summers so hot you sweated when you blinked, fall colors that took your breath away and snows so deep the landscape changed to unrecognizable - except for the house.

We built the house to be our only house until we truly get to go Home.

Of course, I have no idea if I'll be able to be here until I take my last breath. Some people are fortunate and do, some cannot.

I don't know how you feel about the house in which you live. It may be some place you can't wait to move out of, it may be brand spanking new (really) and the rooms echo because you're saving up money for rugs and furniture. It may be falling down around your ears.

Paul said to be content in all things, regardless of our circumstances. And he was absolutely right.

But I will say I feel so greatful that God Almighty has allowed me to have a home I love. It's not a mansion, many people would find it too small. But it speaks to me in a way that things can sometimes.

Home is where the heart is? Maybe.

Or maybe it's just where we can take our shoes off, breathe a sigh of relief and enjoy our life on this planet.

Isn't that more than enough?