Home

Whew…what a week and a half it’s been.  I’ve sat down to write a blog multiple times only to be distracted by something, anything that needed IMMEDIATE attention according to the tiny people who live in my house.

I haven’t known exactly how to put into words all that has happened in our neck of the woods over the past week or so.  The best way I know to explain the happenings of this heart of mine is to talk about becoming a mama times three.

After we had Sissy, I was convinced I’d never love another baby the way I loved her.  She was the greatest thing since sliced bread.  My heart and life were so full and I wanted to share every waking moment with that little blonde haired, blue eyed beauty.  Then, along came Mouse.  Man alive, that girl has been fierce since day one and as soon as I laid eyes on her, my heart exploded with more love than I could imagine.  How was that possible?  To love two people so much it hurts but in two completely different ways?  Every aspect of those two girls are completely different from one another and yet my heart could have almost burst with the love and joy I felt each time I looked at those darling girls.  And then our Little Man came along.  He was everything we never knew we needed.  At least, I didn’t know I needed him.  Each time, the enemy would creep in and have me convinced I didn’t have what it took to be a mama, again.  Selling lies about how little I could love another baby.  And, that’s just what the enemy wants…he wants us to believe his lies.  He wants us to live into what he says about us and not WHO our Father says we are.

I’ve been walking in some of those lies since we moved here.  Not living into who my Father says I am.  Not allowing myself to like it here because this isn’t “home”.  Walking in fear and believing that the task at hand is too large for my family.  And, truthfully, it is too big for us.  Its not too big for Him though.

The past week has brought some healing to this heart.  We’re finding new rhythms, making some unlikely friends and I can feel myself beginning to enjoy this pace of life.  Oh, I still have my moments of what in the world are we doing but last Sunday something clicked for me.  Just like I wasn’t sure my heart could hold anymore love for my babies, I wasn’t sure I could feel at home in a place that doesn’t look anything like “home”.  As the five of us walked in from exploring, I caught this precious picture.

In looking at it initially, you might not see anything spectacular.  Let me explain though. It was in this specific moment that He reminded me my home isn’t a place. Its not an ideal destination.  My home is with those four people in that picture.  Those three babies and that man are my home.  As long as I’m with them, I’m home.  So, regardless of where my Father calls me, I can be home because He’s helped J and I build our house from the ground up.

He’s been preparing our family for this since day one because He knew exactly the moment and time we’d be here.  The girls have started calling the Rez home…referring to our tiny island as exactly that, the island.  They have already gotten what their Mama is just now getting.  Home isn’t a house, home is a family.

I love the peace that has started to take root in my heart.  I’m loving the flow of our days as we begin to gently fall into a new rhythm with home school and J’s job.  I see the simplicity and beauty of the lives here and I’m beginning to turn towards thankfulness for the opportunity to share my life with the Navajo people.  While I still don’t understand parts and pieces of this new season, I’m home.

“Jesus replied, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.” -John 14:23