It has been exactly one week since I started this challenge. In the past seven days, I have hung curtains, cleaned, picked paint samples, organized, and it's only the beginning. I've been focusing so much on what's inside the house that sometimes I feel like I forget to highlight what really matters.
A home is not a place; it's not four walls, it's not the perfect throw pillows on the perfect couch in the perfect lighting. Home is people. It's memories made and memories to make. It's appreciating that the people around you are the people who make life worth living.
Almost five years ago something terrible happened, and this terrible thing has shaped my relationship with houses and has instilled in me a sense of both apathy and extreme longing to have a home. The fact that I am hanging curtains, hanging pictures, and not hanging myself is really a testament to my growth, and ability to form a relationship with my space. That may sound so silly, but I feel so grateful for how far I've come, and I genuinely believe that God and my family are the reasons behind this.
My husband is one of the sweetest, most affectionate people I know. As someone who is neither sweet nor affectionate, he compliments and challenges me in ways I could not even imagine. On our first anniversary he took me to the pad on which our house would sit and sang a love song that he wrote for me. Sitting there on the mounds of dirt illuminated only by the stars and the light in his eyes I knew I was home; just like I knew I was home the first time I held my son.
For Anthony, our house is undoubtedly his home. When we get home from working, or visiting Nonni, or simply living life he completely relaxes, all bad moods are washed away, and he becomes the amazingly energetic, hilarious, blissful little person I know and love. In these four walls I have gotten to know him more and more everyday. He first started crawling in that living room, had his first bath in that tub, laughed for the first time on that couch. He loves our house, regardless of the paint on the walls or clutter. In fact, I'm convinced he misses the clutter because he has less to play with!
My family has also made a huge impact on making our house a home. I am so blessed to live so close to my parents and sisters. My dad cleared the pad for our house, and with the help of cousins and uncles pulled electricity and put the house together. My mom is actually the one who found our house and has been ever supportive and ever loving throughout every twist and turn. My sisters are eternally helpful, each doing what they can in their own way.
And of course, the presence of God in our house makes it a home. Now, me'n God have had our ups and downs, and by me'n God, I mean me. Becoming a mother has strengthened my relationship with God in ways I cannot even imagine, and has healed wounds from the past that I thought would never heal. God is in our home, in the blessings we have received, the presence of our son, and in our marriage. Without him, we would have nothing but two by fours and carpet. There is nothing in this world as valuable as love from the Lord, and luckily for us, (and especially me) it is infinite.
God bless you.
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