You know that feeling where you pull in your driveway, gather your things together, unlock your front door, close it behind you and just lean on it with your eyes closed and sigh, “Made it. Home.”
You made it home after a long trying day, week, month….or maybe even a few hours.
It’s that place where you’re you. No questions asked. No makeup. Ugly holey pajamas. Morning breath at lunch time. Just home.
Home has come in many packages for us over the last ten years, and I’ve learned it is not about the package. Just the spirit filling it. The vibe (if you will) that it gives off.
My vibe killer is clutter.
Shoe clutter, toy clutter, laundry clutter, dish clutter. But, I’ve had to get over myself and my vibe killers. I have four boys, there will be clutter. And I want there to be. Because it’s their home too. Their place to be them. No questions asked. Super hero clothes at lunchtime. Morning breath. Savage screams and monster growls.
As I grew into this role of homemaker, I’ve learned some things. Just the word even, homemaker. I used to hate it. It sounded soo…homely. Ironic. I know.
But I was inspired along the way by homes I visited. Not picture perfect catalog sets, just plain ole lived in homes. The people inspiring me were always people I admired spiritually speaking too. They were serious about Jesus, and I felt that when I was in their home. I would come back to our house after these visits, and wonder what would make our home a place people felt like that.
I can’t pinpoint any one thing I changed except for my perception and attitude toward that place we called home. I think it was contagious, because not too long ago, someone came by and they said to me the highest compliment about my home I could have ever been paid. It wasn’t ‘where did you get that…..?’ Or, ‘I love your curtains!’ It was a simple, “I love it here.”
That feeling of being in a space that makes you comfortable. Where you’re free to laugh and be you. Free to fall into our broken couch and make yourself at home. Free to eat goodies at our table while laughing about the leg falling off while you’re eating.
Just a safe place. A haven from the storms of life. They follow you in sometimes, but the spirit inside is a place of peace that makes walking through life a little easier.
May your homes be a haven for those you welcome inside.
Posts about home that have inspired me, and maybe you too!
Confessions of a Reluctant Renter
31 Days :: What’s the Purpose