Home

Home is where the heart is, but you first have to actively choose to place your heart there. As a small girl I dreamed of my grown-up life--one full of acres of land scattered with horses, a wrap-around porch skirting my crisp white house, and beautiful dark wood furniture ornamented by brightly colored fabrics. I imagined feeding babies and teaching little hands how to catch a ball. I had it all figured out. Not sure being 25 constitutes as being a grown-up, but I am technically an adult now. Horses exist in my dreams, my porch is a 4x6 foot concrete slab sitting above busy streets, and my furniture is worn with character and love. Life isn't as imagined, but it's still home. That place we return to at the end of a long day, where we can feel safe and secure. Where we create fond memories with those we love. Home--whether it's on Jimmy Ann Drive or Lincolnia Road, as long as we rest our hearts there, we can create our home. And perhaps someday our hearts will find themselves amidst a pasture of horses and a wrap-around porch. Until then, I will place my heart here.