Over the weekend, my husband and I moved out of our home of six years and into a condo. We are both in our mid-50s, and decided that now was the time to transition to a life with just a few less demands pulling at us.
Today, I am thankful for home.
We are fortunate to be in this position, I know. We have choices. We have the opportunity to lean our life in the direction we want it to go.
What I am reminded of, though, is that home is not the color of the walls, the placement of the furniture, or having all the boxes unpacked. Home is where my husband and I can sit after dinner and reflect on our joys and challenges together. Home is where, at the end of an exhausting day of work and school, I can lay my head on my pillow and sleep peacefully. Home is where I wake to fresh coffee and a little note of encouragement left on the counter. Home is where memories of the past and hopes for the future are woven around the present.
Home is where love is.