Comforts of Home, part one

What is it about home that is so comforting? I think it may be different for everybody and for every home. To me, home is more of a feeling than an actual place.

For the past two months, Dave and I have had the pleasure of staying with my parents in my childhood home. This will always be one of the places I consider "home," full of many memories and traditions. My parents' home provides me with strong feelings of belonging, comfort, and unconditional love. But why?

Maybe it's my mom's delicious food she prepares daily- no matter what is served it always tastes better when she makes it. Maybe it's the way my dad saves the Tribune crossword each morning for me, then comes home after work to check my answers (or help me finish it!). Maybe it's the warm fireplace that draws me close night after night, or the nightlights in the hallway that prevent any bumps or bruises as I find my way to the bathroom. Is it Brittany, looking up at me with her big brown eyes wanting a rub or just a little treat? Is it my dad watching 30 Rock with me when I know he'd rather be watching Criminal Minds? Maybe it's my mom driving me to and from University Hospital several times when I know how much she dislikes finding her way around the campus.

I can't pinpoint what it is about home that helps to heal my spirit and mend my heart, but I know I'd be lost without it. I am filled with gratitude to my parents for making their home a place of refuge, safety, comfort, and love, and Dave and I aim to do the same. Returning home to mine and Dave's house was bittersweet- although I was thrilled to be going home and returning to Joey, I knew I would miss my parents. The closeness I gained to my parents made me want to share each day with them. Never will I forget the generosity and compassion they have shown to me, and although I know I can never repay them I hope to honor them by creating a home that holds the same feelings of comfort and warmth. There really is no place like home.

A new month, a new me

March has always been a month of change.  To me it signals the end of a cold, dark winter and the coming of a warmer, brighter spring.  Something I love about the month is watching the crocuses, daffodils, and tulips break through the brown soil with their green leaves and colorful flowers.  As I see them in my own yard as well as others, they bring me hope of lighter days with more sunshine and warmth.  These flowers have hidden underground during the long months of winter but have not given up.  Not only do they eventually blossom, but they make this effort immediately after sensing any increase in temperature, for they are eager to enjoy the spring and summer again.  These flowers know that their colorful petals and vibrant stems will turn brown once more and they will have to turn inward and endure more dark times.  But this doesn't stop them from fulfilling their beautiful potential.  Often times throughout the cold months of winter, these flowers not only survive but grow and become stronger, filling gardens with more and more beautiful blossoms each year.

I hope to become like these flowers.  I hope to blossom and fulfill more of my potential.  I know hard times will come again, but I want to enjoy every good day the Lord grants me.  I want my trials to motivate me to be brighter and stronger during the good times rather than live in fear of another "winter."  As March transitions from winter to spring, I am trying to transition from sadness to joy.  We all know that the month of March does not mean there will be no more blizzards or rainstorms, but that more and more sunny days are on their way.  And maybe I too will have more sunny days.  The months are changing and so am I.