Today it wasn't just the excited cries of our puppy that woke me up. Thoughts of family rushed into my foggy brain and woke me up with such ferocity, it felt as though I'd just slammed down three cups of caffeinated coffee. While I am a lover of memories, this morning wasn't an occasion for thinking of the past. Instead, it was visions of what could be that raced through my blood vessels and sat prominently behind my slow-blinking eyelids.
We want to move home.
It's as simple as that, and if I looked up and read our blog title, When You Say Nothing At All, I'd probably stop right here. But because I know the underlying meaning behind that title (which perhaps one day I'll share), I'm going to trudge forward and sort through what has kept me wide-awake.
The desire to be nearer to family is unmistakable. Our conversations drift to ways to make it work, and I know we're both thinking about it constantly on our own. Yesterday I prayed that God would help me be more satisfied with our current place--the place we attempt to call our home. But, it's not the pictures hanging on the walls or the clothes hanging in the closet that make a place a home. It's the people who visit, the laughter that soaks into the walls, the time stopped when sharing it with loved ones. And we need it. We crave it.
Home. Oregon. Family.
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