There’s something great about ‘coming home’. Even though Indiana is not my home state and I only spent 2 years living in Carmel at my parents house (my last 2 years of high school) there is still something so wonderful about being under my parents roof for a few days.
As my trip got closer and closer my excitement was mounting. My boyfriend jokingly asked if I was just pumped to get away from him for a few days. I finally found the right words to respond. I live in Florida by myself. 50 weeks or so of every year I’m completely on my own. I’m responsible for everything. I have no close by family. I live by myself. Everything is on me.
This is not a complaint. I love my life in Florida. I adore my home. And living there and owning that home were my dreams that came true. However, coming home is the few days out of the year where I get to take a load off. For a long weekend or a week at Christmas I get to set down the burden of all my responsibilities that I bare alone day in and day out and just be.
I use the time I get here to truly relax. No guilt that the minutes I relax are ones I should be cleaning or fixing or preparing. Just rest. No stress or anxiety. Just a few days of true rest.
So grateful on his lazy morning by the fire reading the word beside my sweet momma for the gift of coming home.