it's late and i'm tired, we've been sick and i should be sleeping but my mind is restless and my heart is aching.
lost in the question of home.
far enough away from my little yellow house that now stands filled with a new family instead of echoing with our memories ~ to feel distance enough to lay our time there to rest...
but still new enough here to feel adrift.
i was prepared, this time, for the surreal moments that come with holding currency that is truly foreign...in a "bordering country" sense of the word.
but to hold my country's and have it feel strange in my hands?
to suddenly feel like i belong to neither place...to have no standing here or there?
those are emotions that sneak up on you in the late of the evening...as the words build up inside and threaten to break the dam that is really being held up by nothing other than a sleep-deprived will.
missing friendships that are no longer daily interactions as i try and discover where i fit in here...a delicate dance of loss and gain and there are moments, like now, that i feel so incredibly immersed in grief.
and then lyla meets a new friend who she shares a rocking chair with...
olivia shouts loud and a new group of mamas smile big and accept...
and elias snuggles and points at every car and the ladies at the church nursery want to take him home...
and there is a place here, meant just for us and in the moments when i am missing what i knew and feeling lost in where i am i remind myself of what i kept writing in the months of wait...
home isn't the floor under the table where i place my feet; it's where they are.
so do food labels
and the price of gas.
but He doesn't,
and their love for me grows,
and here, here is where i fit.