my hearts - home

I have been thinking about being settled lately.

I moved houses a good few times as a child.  I didn't mind though.  Each brought a new adventure and new friends.  I have a fond spot for each home in my mind.  And that's just what they were, home.  My mom was a master of making a place home.  I never really thought about that before.  She was so gifted in bringing our family's aura/essence into our new quarters.  I never felt not at home. Never.

That is a gift I'm working on... can you work on a gift? I suppose you can.  I'm working on what makes home and what makes us.  By working, I don't just mean hanging up pictures (this is the first house I've done that in.)  I mean I've been mulling it over in my mind.

Somewhere and I have moved a grand total of four times in our four years of marriage. Each house felt more like home than the last.  That said, I haven't learned how to pack up, and then unpack, "home."  That thing that makes it where no longer how long you live there or what the dwelling looks like, it is home.   My heart has been seeking home.  It wants to sink into it like a warm down comforter, like the perfect garden hide away, the tinkle of wind chimes.  It wants to settle in.  I want to settle in.

End of part one of the My Hearts Series.

Please take a minute to answer the Question by clicking here: Of course, I would love to!

.A day for magic. (Partially written two days ago.)

Today is one of those days where you're just a bit bored of it all.

I went over to my grandparents this morning, just hanging out and working around the house.  I came home and I wanted to play DA2, but, the Xbox was occupied.  Thus, I did what any sane person would do.   I cleaned the living room and organized all my magazines.  Doesn't everyone do that when they can't play?
Now I'm just bored.

I'd love a day without all the things only adults worry about.  I'm disenchanted with dealing with bills, cleaning, silly humans, jealousy (on my part), clocks, mirrors, and responsibilities of really any kind.  Is anyone really enchanted with any of that? Well no, but that's not my point.

It's a day I wish my vices weren't just that, vices.
I'm in the mood for copious amounts of sugar, dark, dark chocolate, whiskey (let's not get into everyone's views on alcohol), and smoking under comfy blankets on the back porch.
Again, I merely said I'm in the mood for those.  All of those are vices of mine, things I desire.  Okay, dark chocolate isn't a vice, but it went with the rest.

More than anything, I simply want to be carefree for a while.  That's not really a bad thing.
The problem is when, as I used to be, I go to those things for comfort when they don't offer lasting comfort.  They don't fix problems long-term, in fact, a couple, (sugar, my face is looking at you) cause more problems then they are worth.

This isn't really a profound post.  Just thinking out loud.  The obvious profound message would be about Christ being the fulfillment of all our desires.  That is true. As C.S. Lewis puts it:

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”― C.S. Lewis

(2 days later)

I was in fact talking to a friend about the above tonight.  How just a few months ago, I went through the lesson of God being my number one source of satisfaction for my desire for love.  He, before all, including Somewhere, is my source of that need-meet.

I feel like I candy-coat my faith.  I hope I convey that these lessons were not easy. They included heartbreak, tears, angry yelling in prayer, not really at God but just at it all, and much pain.  I don't skip through life, giggling at butterflies and la-di-dahing how awesome my Savior is.  This faith of mine is hard-fought, fraught with my failures, dirty, real and alive.  It is God come to Earth.  It is Heaven in dust.  It is glorious.

The Room

I've been thinking a lot about my heart.

This past week I've been really busy, with work and art for a ladies retreat.  I have had gloriously messy  hands at least three times.  That is a good, good things.  Put a messy medium in my hands and let me create and I'm happy.  Remind me to tell you about my daydreams.

Since my time has been so full, I haven't had as much time to think about anything else, including the sweethearts.    I was musing on that fact the other day and I was struck with a visual.

Picture my heart as a house.  When I found out I was pregnant, my heart was full.  Sunshine and laughter filled every corner.  It was like sitting outside, soft, warm summer sunshine bathing in the green of the leaves on trees surrounding you. It was magical.  Every one of those special "momma smiles" seem to hang on the walls, like so many portraits.  Friends and family are welcomed in, each leaving a note or present.  Even so, there is really only your husband and you and them. You hold them, dance with them and try not to fear over what you will never be able to control.

And then it's different.  The rooms get grey-ier. All hope isn't gone, the colors just change. Laughter drifts out.  You find fingerprints on windows, but can't find the hands.  Its like when you walk in a room that was filled with people and now is suddenly empty and you laugh nervously, wondering what the joke is and when everyone will come pouring back in.

That all slowly changes. The glitter returns. You feel the absence, but it's not as strong.  You look around and notice a room.  Somehow, at some point, you've moved them there.

 I can't pinpoint when it happened.

I can still walk in the room and catch a whiff of sunshine, a touch of warmth.   There's a blanket, giggling and Amelia Bedelia books.  It's just now, they are in there for the most part, where I can visit without being overwhelmed.

I'll still step on the emotional lego from time to time.  That's okay though.  Just because it hurts, that doesn't mean it's bad.

His Words

Thursday morning, there was a new comment on my "A Long Goodbye" post.  

Somewhere doesn't really read my blog. I knew he definitely hadn't since all this happened. I was totally okay with this. This is my outlet, my way to process life.  

Thursday, though, he did.  He woke me up at 5 AM to let me read this comment.  

I felt I should share it.  I don't have a good segue. I asked him before I shared this. 3 weeks later, this is my husband's thoughts.  (He may actually write a "guest post" for me soon.)

I finally had the thought "I think I can read this now". And I have at 5am before going to sleep. And have cried. And wished. And hoped. But mostly cried. I didn't realize how hurt I still am. I've been trying not to think about it all too much. I've been distracting myself with tv, video games, web coding, and prop fabrication. Because of that, I couldn't see that I really haven't dealt with much at all.

It still sucks. Bad.

We will get through, but it still hurts. I am glad for our close family and friends... and our two wonderful/annoying dogs. They have helped so much.

Someday (hopefully soon) we can become ready to have children. My heart hurts not being able to share Star Wars and magic tricks with these. To see their faces light up when a quarter disappears and comes out of their ear. To hear them say, "Do it again daddy!" To see their faces when they find out that Darth Vader is Luke's father. I will get to share this with others, but not these.

Someday.

-Somewhere