We’ve been home for about a month. Taken a rest from our travels.

Our break has been just the right amounts of rest and play. Time spent with our precious friends and family. We’ve paused for reflection and have set out,  doing and going,  preparing for Christmas.

We’ve played with old toys and gotten excited over new ones.

The house now looks like it barfed up Christmas. But, that’s okay. I’m learning not to stress about these things. A house is not a place of perfection. (I tell myself this when I see the cobwebs and the laundry pile and that base board that needs reglued.)

A house is a place to land. A spot, unique to your own family’s personality, where you can come and put your things down and build something out of your imagination and know that no matter what, you belong. A house is a “haven” to come in from the cold and be warmed and fed and nurtured, physically and emotionally and spiritually.

“Home is wherever we are together.” That’s what we’re learning, in this season of life.

Boxes become trains in the kitchen. A new fun place to color with sister, while momma figures out again, what to make for supper.

We’ve strung up the lights and enjoyed the decorations, between warm cups of coffee and hot chocolate. We’ve romped in the yard, all buttoned up and zipped up, with the neighbors.

I’ve cried lots of times, missing my Dad–our first Christmas without him here.

We’ve taken Jesus by the hand and He’s sat with us, while we’ve thanked Him, daily, for the gifts right in front of us. Jesus has helped us through our hard things. Our riffs in our relationships and our fears. Our restless hearts and our longings for more.

There have been naps in the warm light, and story books, nestled between sister and sometimes with Grandpa on the couch. There have been new Lego sets to build and a bajillion little pieces to pick up from the farthest corners of the carpet.

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I’ve invited friends over for supper and scooted the toys aside to place the food down. Reminding myself again, as a recovering perfectionist, that it’s okay that there are random things strewn all over the house. We live here.

In 10 years, I will not have wished that I had deep-cleaned more. That I had scrubbed those cabinets a few more times. I will only wish that I had taken more deep breaths and smiled at the view.

These ragamuffin babes of mine will up and fly away,  so for now, I’ll work at not yelling every time they make a mess. I will refuse to bark orders like a drill sergeant.

I will simply breathe.

And smile.

Breathe.

And smile.

And thank God that I get to raise some humans.

I think this will help my mental state. : )

Yes, I think my little tribe and I are well-rested and our tanks our full.

We’re eager (mostly) to set out on the open road again. I must have some gypsy in my blood, because I’m not even grieving the leaving.

It’s like, “Good-bye, house! Thank you for meeting our needs! But, we have another house on wheels that takes us places. We’ll see you again this summer!”

The next few days we’ll start sorting and packing. And then we’ll set out in less than a week!

We have some work to do together. There are some folks out there that need a touch from our Father and we’ll go be His hands. We’ll be His feet. We’ll sit down and be His ears that hear their stories and we’ll let His tears run down our very own cheeks.

We’ll pray for the healing and we’ll get to be a part of it.  Our good Father has invited us to a front row seat. A witnessing that He has not abandoned any of us. In fact, He’s not very far from each one of us.

We have only to reach out and find Him near enough by.

Will you pray for us?

Brent and I are completely responsible to raise our own funds to do this work. If you’d like to be a part of it with us, will you consider giving to us here?

(Support Maggie and Brent with Life Action Ministries)

Blessings my friends. And so much peace.