Home.

It's 11am.

I woke up to a cold and gray morning - it started drizzling about an hour ago.

My house is currently 62 degrees and I am too stubborn to turn on the heat, so instead I turn the heater on in my office and aim it directly at me. However, my pup would prefer it be aimed at him.

Silly Rider

It sounds kinda lousy, but I love it. I love how I am bundled in a sweatshirt and get to wear silly socks. I love how I am able to hold a cup of homemade chai in my cold hands. I love how I can make honey bran muffins and eat them when they are still warm from the oven.

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Cold days make me appreciate warmth; they make me appreciate home.

Home.

This is something that has been on my mind lately. Where is "home"? Well, home is wherever Matt and I are together, however, we have more news that we may have to pack up once more and make a new "home".  The decisions are big and each one has its advantages and disadvantages.

I read from Philippians 2:19-30 and Paul is talking about sending Timothy to the Philippian church. I stopped at v. 20-21 "I have no one else like him, who takes a genuine interest in your welfare. For everyone looks out for his own interests, not those of Jesus Christ."

For everyone looks out for his own interests, not those of Jesus Christ.

True.

In the midst of facing a huge decision, I still found myself seeking out my own interests, purposefully forgetting to hand over the decision to the One who knows what is best for Matt and me.

Change is such a hard thing to accept. I fight it. You fight it. We fight it. Change is inevitable and, yet, I forget how much good it brings. How even a simple change in the weather (like today) makes me appreciate the sunny days of yesterday or it allows me to appreciate a hot cup of chai that much more.

“This is what I’ve come to believe about change: it’s good, in the way that childbirth is good, and heartbreak is good, and failure is good. By that I mean that it’s incredibly painful, exponentially more so if you fight it, and also that it has the potential to open you up, to open life up, to deliver you right into the palm of God’s hand, which is where you wanted to be all along, except that you were too busy pushing and pulling your life into exactly what you thought it should be.”
~ Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet

Today is a reminder that I am not in control, but I can rest in the one who is. He is my home. He is my one constant in the midst of change. He knows best.

Children and Parents

I received a phone call today from a friend. It was still early and I was in the kitchen getting ready to brew the morning cup o' joe when I heard my phone ring. I went to the bedroom and reached for the phone, but alas, the ringing had stopped. I pressed "call back" and I heard the news that I knew would be coming one day as my friend spoke on the other end. My friend's mother had passed away from her battle with cancer and she was wondering if I would watch her dogs as she traveled with her husband back home.

Of course I would watch her dogs is what I explained to her over my own tears.

I hung up the phone, but I couldn't let her leave Columbia and drive hours back to Kentucky without a hug. I poured the coffee into two thermoses and drove five minutes to their home, hoping that I would still be able to give her a hug and a warm cup of coffee for the road.

I made it to her house and I got to hug her.

Today has been "off" ever since. News of a loved one passing, or even of a friend's loved one passing, is enough to throw me off kilter, or maybe it's just the opposite, maybe it puts everything back in perspective. I didn't have the motivation I had to run some of the errands around town. I wanted to be home. I wanted to be around things that my mom provided for me growing up. I wanted her homemade cookies; not for their deliciousness, but for the smell - the smell of "home". I wanted to curl up on a couch and watch It's a Wonderful Life while eating popcorn. I wanted to watch her paint again like she did when I was little. I wanted to watch her paint for hours at the old wooden table covered in layers and colors of paint.

The truth is that it hurts that I can still go home and see my mom, but my friend can't.

Today, I thank God for Moms - Good or bad. Strong or Weak. Motherly or distant. They are our mothers and we are asked to honor our parents; our mothers.

In spirit of thanking my mom for always caring, in the spirit of simplicity, in the spirit of "homemade goodness", I have decided to make a buttermilk ranch dressing that I have been wanting to make, but too lazy since I have a jar in the fridge from a grocery's store shelf. Somehow, though, it's not like homemade cookies. I will leave those to be made for when my friend returns and she will need to be reminded of "home"...

Ephesians 6:1-3
Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. Honor your father and mother - which is the first commandment with a promise - that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.

To honor our parents is not only for their good, but God promises us that it is for our good. For our good and His glory...

Now on to making some delicious dressing - I'll make sure to post photos and the recipe. :)