After a week away in the mountains, breathing crisp, fresh, cold air, we find ourselves refreshed, renewed, and ready for a new year. We're home.
Home.
Where you might find some dirt on the floor, dust on the furniture, clutter here and there; but where you will always find warm hearts, a listening ear, a shoulder to lean on, and a spirit of faith, hope and charity.
Always.
We have our faults, and we have our days, but we know where our priorities are: in the heart. We argue, we fuss, we stumble, but we forgive, we make up, we learn, we move on. We grow, continuously, which isn't always easy or pretty, but it's real, and we work pretty darn hard on it, simply because it's what we do.
The house is drafty, and has a to-do list a mile long, but none of it is major or life-threatening, but it's home. It's the place where we do our best, day to day. Happily. Joyfully. We fully realize that our priorities differ from others'; ours being the people in our lives, not the things. (Crazy, isn't it?)
Home.
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