This neighborhood gives some of the best welcomes I can fathom.
There is something really lovely about returning from a trip and struggling to get up to your front door amidst a crowd of people shouting your name, taking your bags, and helping you unlock your door. There are the comments on haircuts and who has been sick.
And then we just settle in to all the familiar smells and sounds and faces, which we love.
It is just good to be here, in a home that God has really given us a grateful heart for.
We are still in the middle of many difficult decisions and choices, all of which we are praying through and attempting to share as we can. On this particular evening, I had been in tears praying through some things we just don’t know the answers to, and Stephen pulled out his guitar to sing some worship songs together. He played, we sang, and this little sweetheart came to the door to listen. We invited her in and she crawled on my lap to listen as we sang and sang and sang. I have never met an eight-year-old that wanted to be held and cuddled as much as this one.
We then played a few games of Memory, and she womped us every time because she has the bends and tears on the cards memorized. And then a few more joined, and we all headed to the kitchen. Stephen worked on a couple household projects while four little girls sat and ate yogurt, playing Angry Birds, taking turns using the bathroom, and laughing their little hearts out.
And this, among many other little moments right outside our door, make this home so good to be welcomed back to.