A Homebody Without a Home

Well, it's 4:03am and I have no idea why I'm even up and writing this sentence right now.

Ever since we've been homeless from the time we moved our stuff to the new house (that is not officially ours yet), Beau wakes up wanting to get in bed with me about now wondering where he is. I guess I'm just programmed to be ready to get him and let him know things are okay. I'm kinda sad to miss out on that tonight, but I'm glad he's able to sleep. I think I need the comfort of the normalcy of him right now just like he needs me, too.

Our closing date was backed up two more weeks, so right now we're just waiting for the old house to be settled with not nearly enough clothes packed. It's the weirdest feeling not having a home right now.

I mean homebody is not my middle name- it's my first name! I literally stay in my house for weeks on end without seeing the light of day and anyone close to me can attest to this. I don't mind missing out on anything in this world if it means I'm in clean sheets and pajamas in my own home. I am on the edge of hermit and sometimes fall over into actually being a hermit in the dead of winter. My house is my comfort zone and not having that and being in between makes a homebody like me feel completely lost! That's why I had to come back here the day after I found out it was delayed even longer...this is definitely a place that feels mine! Even though I'm grown and gone, this is still where my name is on a plate above the kitchen table and where my mom takes care of me!

Someone I admired said something one time that stuck with me and I think about a lot for my own feelings and when I need empathy for others. She said: "You may not understand why someone else is upset about something, but if that's how they feel, validated in your mind or not-it matters."

Even though this isn't the biggest deal in the world and we've had so many great memories made because of this time, it still matters to me because of my personality and the comfort I find by having a place to call my own. I think about how Jesus never truly had a home here on earth and what that must've felt like. He knew what true home was though and that isn't in a house. He knew that Heaven was the true home and that lasting comfort comes from God alone. Maybe that's why I think about Heaven so much and always have. It appeals to me to have an everlasting HOME.

I always wonder if maybe one day me and God will be in cotton pajama pants in Heaven laughing together about all the times we hung out alone in my earthly homes together.

I sure hope so. :)