Hello from Kansas!

Visiting family is always a joy to me. It's a little bittersweet that Clark couldn't travel with us, but everything went smoothly for the most part!

When I step away from one safety-zone into another, it always makes me ponder. I feel just as much at home in my parents' house as I do at my own. This means more when you take into account just how much they've moved since I last lived with them.

My last home under thier roof was in North Carolina. Since then they've lived in Germany, South Carolina, Georgia, and Kansas. My poor little sister has been at a new school every year of high school. It makes me that much prouder to be here for her graduation.

When I was younger I used to imagine the perfect house, especially when Clark and I were first married. I would go over and over the details in my head, just thinking of all the things that would make this house my "dream home". As I've gotten older, however, I've realized something rather profound.

My dream home is where ever my family is.

My mom has shown me that it doesn't matter precisely where you are. You can make any house your home. You can make any town your town. It just takes patience and time. I think growing up in a family that followed God's call in the ministry and the military, we learned that slowly but surely. Now that I'm older, it's even clearer. She has moved so much and always dreamsed of a house, but to me she made every house we lived in a true home.

It's hard sometimes when you live in an apartment or live somewhere that doesn't exactly feel homely to remember how blessed you are. Sometimes God sends some challenges your way that you just don't think are ever going to turn around and be in your favor... but you get there.

The more Clark and I talk about the future, the more I remember to enjoy the present. I may be thinking about having a home someday with a fenced in back yard and a treehouse for Michael (like my parents have at the moment), but then I remember that the duplex we live in now will be full of memories and stories alike to share with fondness. And if for some reason we find our dream home and then have to move... I hope at that moment I can remind myself that it wouldn't be home without my family.

Michael's seperation anxiety has been pretty terrible the past couple of days. From plane rides to car rides to realizing that dada is nowhere to be found, I can imagine why. I know when he's older the grandparents' houses will be an adventure all on its own, and I hope he'll realize at that point as well that home really is where the heart is.

So, although we're missing dada, and although it's a little rough being away from all of our things, we're feeling so blessed to be spending time with family. Home is not a place. A house is a place. Home is family and love.