Mike and I often talk about the possibility of moving back home.
It would be easier; especially during close weeks when I only see my husband as a shadow from the bathroom light as he tip toes through his morning routine in an attempt not to wake me or as he quietly slips into bed well after bedtime.
But then we pause and realize this is home. This is our home.
I dream of a time when our kids will come visit with their children, we'll see the worries melt off their shoulders as they breathe deeply the comfort of home. This home. Their home.
And then I'm comforted because we are exactly where we are meant to be. Home.
No comments:
Post a Comment