My life in a Box(truck)

About a year ago I was packing up all of our worldly belongings.  Armed with a permanent marker and a tape gun I labeled each one: ME or TX.  Most of the TX boxes were for Emalee's comfort.  Books, toys, etc.  Little did I know that the things I packed for myself (clothes) would barely be used.  Little did I know that our life would change even more than I had planned.  I found out a month later that we were pregnant with our second child and all of those cute sundresses were already fitting a bit too snugly.  Now I can't even find those boxes. Anyway - I have learned from this crazy experience that I really don't need as much "stuff" as I once believed.  It all seemed so important a year ago.  Most of our things sat in a storage building for nearly a year awaiting the next trip from GA to ME.  It is now here and I am still living out of a suitcase and still wearing what I wore while in GA.  Still living with less and not really missing anything except for the relationships and people we have left behind.  So what does this really mean for us?  Well, aside from still not being able to find a pair of jeans that fit now because I haven't located my skinny jeans yet, all of the "stuff" is so unimportant.  What have I been able to do?  I have spent time with my husband and daughter.  I have enjoyed my son's first smiles and giggles. I have started to explore a new place that until our plane landed I had only seen online via Google's "Street View".  I have been living in the reality of our leap of faith.  Looking "God's Will" in the face.  I know we are exactly where we are supposed to be but I have to work through the harder parts of that too.  I am still looking for why exactly He wants us to be here.  I spend the days with my children.  I adore Emalee's insights on life and discoveries each day.  I love the glimmering smiles my baby boy reserves just for me.  I am also starting to realize what I left behind.

I used to think that "home" was where you kept your "stuff".  Oh how wrong I have been.  My home is in the arms of my husband. My home is having our children in my lap or their sweet heads resting on my shoulder, twirling my hair.  My home is in the swing in my parent's backyard watching Emalee kick a ball.  My home is sipping coffee in the quiet of the morning before everyone wakes up.  My home is fishing from the dock of my grandmother's pond.  My home isn't a particular place but truly is where the love is.  As I continue unpacking boxes in the quest of my favorite lasagna dish and those elusive skinny jeans that will finally fit I know this truth: I already have what is important in my life and it will never fit into a box.  It took moving away from all that was comfortable in my life to really realize that.  Unfortunately it also took a 26 foot Penske truck full of "stuff" for me to realize I could live without everything it contained.  The search for certain boxes continues but I no longer need to wait for our "home"... I already have it with me.