My home!

There is something about being home.  Don't get me wrong.  I love college.  And our little "home" with the three of us is cute.  It has wall art, a cookie jar, and even a mat in the bathroom!  It's quite cozy and fits us perfectly.  It has been enough to make our Wyview apartment seem like a home away from home...  But it's still not the same as my real home.  My real home is a part of me.  It's a place where I feel like I absolutely belong.  Each room holds memories.  The kitchen where millions of games of "restaurant" were played. (Ramon noodles was our main course and if we were lucky goldfish was our side dish.)  The bathroom where all of us kids would try to get ready for bed at the same time and where my brother poured a cup of water on my head.  The office decorated with the kids' paintings and where I wrote my first talk.  The living room where games of hot lava and indoor balloon volleyball were played.  The piano room where I practiced hours and cried due to my mean piano teacher.  My room where my sister and I would stay up and talk about life, where I had my first kiss, where tears of fear rolled down my face, and where some of my earliest spiritual experiences occurred.  I was made in that house... my house. I am so grateful that it was filled with people who support me, tease me, strengthen me, and love me.  I'm grateful for my home and can't wait to go back :)