Guest Post: Home is Where…

Happy Thursday, y’all!  Today is “Home is Where…” guest post day and I’m so excited to be hosting Jenn from Hang on, Baby, We’re Almost…Somewhere (love that blog title!).  Jenn is whip-smart, funny and never fails to get my brain churning so I’m so glad to have her perspective  on home.  Enjoy!

Home is where…we find ourselves living in God’s place for us.

My Honey went to a job fair in his last semester of his Maritime Systems Engineering studies. Almost hidden among the engineering firms’ booths sat a table manned by two Diplomatic Security Special Agents. Honey’s study partner stopped to talk to the engineering firm with the spot next to that unassuming table, and one of the agents struck up a conversation with Honey. He agreed to an interview, once he discovered that DS was part of the U.S. State Department. He landed some engineering interviews, too. We were both excited! He had plans to build cool ocean structures. I envisioned him as next-in-command to the Secretary of State, who at the time was the amazing Madeleine Albright.

As the interviews progressed, I agreed to travel to places like Pascagoula, Mississippi, where I became optimistic about the possibilities of living near the beach and settling into a new community. Honey, on the other hand, started to think being a Special Agent would offer him career perks that he would not have as an engineer. Which is a fancy way of saying that he found out Special Agents get to carry a gun.

The interviews continued. Our interest in Diplomatic Security grew with each one. After one interview, Honey (whose interest in the news was practically non-existent in those days) reported that after their conversation, the State Department official told him gently, “You may want to brush up on your current events.” That guy was the master of understatement. Honey knew who the Secretary of State was, but he admits, “That was only because you had told me who she was. Before that, I probably didn’t know.”

We ended up in the State Department; Honey trained in D.C. and at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center. Turns out, carrying a gun wasn’t even the coolest perk. A day at a racetrack learning high-speed maneuvers and evasive driving techniques took that honor. Following current events was a small price to pay! Honey also has a strong patriotic streak. Serving his country appealed to him strongly.

I, meanwhile, was thrilled. I come from a long line of passionate voters and political junkies. I remember watching my first Democratic National Convention when I was seven. My grandfather used to tell the tale of the day FDR died. “He had been President since I was 14. I didn’t know how the country would survive. I put my head on my desk and cried.” Coming from that heritage, becoming a State Department spouse sounded great to me! And it’s not like I’d end up like a military wife, moving every couple of years. That would be horrible!

Ahem.

Twelve years and six moves later, we laugh at our early preconceptions and assumptions about the job. We love it, even the moving; we consider ourselves “lifers” at this point, and it’s afforded our kiddos a chance to live in other cultures and get to know people who speak, believe, or act differently than we do.

But even with all the advantages, we recognize that kids need roots, too. Our challenge has been to figure out how to set down roots when we automatically uproot every two to three years.

Several years ago, I came across this verse: Your decrees are the theme of my song wherever I lodge. -Psalm 119:54

All at once, I was reassured. All we need to make a home is the same song, sung in all our different locations. In that one verse, we found our home. We live in God’s place. Sometimes our location in His place is really far away from what we believe is probably His favorite part of His place: Texas. (Yes, I’m tongue in cheek about that. Sort of.) Most summers, we spend time in Texas, near extended family, and that gives us a general sense of being “from” somewhere, but when it comes down to it, all of it is home.

This reminds me of a colony of quaking aspen trees in Utah, which look like individual trees but are all connected by one vast root system. “New” trees grow from these roots regularly; others fall. The colony covers 106 acres, a vast space for one living organism.

We find new friends, new schools, new churches in each place, and that helps us fit all of our homes into the wider picture of being in God’s place, always girded by the same root system.

We’re a team. We’re affectionate. We pray together. We have traditions. We even have our very own holiday, made up by our son Einstein in 2008: LeBow Day. On LeBow Day, each family member picks one activity, and we do all of them together. We’re coming up on our Fifth Annual LeBow Day. This year, we may make t-shirts! (Don’t tell Honey in advance, please.) And everywhere, His decrees are the theme of our song.

Jenn LeBow is a native Texan; lover of Jesus; happy wife of Honey, a Diplomatic Security Special Agent; mom of four (mostly) delightful kids: Cartwheel, 21; Einstein, 10; Blossom, 7; and Ladybug, 3; and a voracious reader, whose appetite for books is reluctantly subjugated to other duties in her life. She blogs at Hang On, Baby, We’re Almost… Somewhere

Guest Post: Home is where…

It’s week three of my guest post series “Home is where…” and I’m feeling like I’ve got some kindred spirits out there in blog land.  Big thanks again to Nanci and Laurel for their posts!  Today, my guest is Anne Marie, a kind a wise soul I’m blessed to know through church friends we have in common.  She and I have a lot in common – we love Jesus, like to eat real food and we’ve both experienced the same running SNAFU.  I think you’ll really love her post!

Home is Where You Heal

I went out on a run last week that should have been normal. It was anything but normal. There had been a light drizzle that afternoon, and the sun was just setting when I got home from work. Really, it was beautiful, cool weather for May. A network of trails backs up to my street, so I was just getting started when I crossed a smooth bridge and fell – somehow simultaneously – on my left knee and right hip. I yelped and got up, grateful no one saw. I started to limp back to my house, and it dawned on me that since I was only a little banged up, I could probably keep going on my run. So I did. Found a hidden trail in fact that was even better than what I’d be traveling on all my runs before this point. I ran alongside a creek, found some beautiful plants, and I loved every second. I got home and iced my knee with frozen vegetables and watched some TV. Perfection. I was already feeling better.

Rewind a couple years to a seriously banged up time in my life…

My sister passed away suddenly and I was absolutely devastated. I had a hard time with everything – getting out of bed before noon was an accomplishment some days. I asked hard questions, that didn’t really have answers. The light in that dark time was a group of friends that absolutely rallied. They called. They hugged. They listened. In that comforting, quiet space, I could heal from something terrible. And I found home in that community.

I found home in some precious words, too. Psalm 51:8 says, “Let the bones that you have broken rejoice.” I never really thought about what it would mean for God to allow our bones to be broken until I lost my sister. And then I would just cling to the idea, the promise, that one day these broken bones would rejoice. I believe those were healing words. I believe they were my home for a season.

Wherever your home is, let it be a place of healing. I love to think of home, not just as four walls, but as a place where I can dwell and find rest and hope.

Now my home is happy. There’s great rejoicing, funny stories, good friends, and warmth. I’m glad that this is home for now. Wherever I go next, I know where I can find healing. I know how I can be at home.

Guest Post: Home is Where…

I’m happy today to introduce my second guest blogger in the “Home is where…” series.  Y’all, the ladies who are guest posting are so awesome and Laurel is no exception.  I live in crazyland too and I bet most of you do as well.  Enjoy!

Hi! My name is Laurel and I blog over at Girl Meets World!  I believe in meeting the world head on one day at a time! My blog is simply a culmination of my adventures while doing just that!  Coffee addict and bookworm I love all things vintage and pretty! I am newly married and loving every minute of the adventure known as marriage! I hope you’ll join me for the ride!

 Home is where the crazy is…

 My life is topsy-turvy and completely crazy. As newlyweds my husband and I are adjusting to our new life as husband and wife, we just recently moved in to a new house (which is a total mess still), and we have two crazy animals to contend with. Add full times jobs and a 30min commute each way and crazy is just the start.  Yet home is where it all centers around.  Call me crazy but I also wouldn’t have it any other way

Our home (I love saying “our”) is where we begin and end each and every crazy day.   After moving to our new house in February (a nightmare in itself) we have learned a lot about ourselves and how we handle stress. It’s really been an emotional roller coaster since moving with our home being the car we’re strapped in to and clinging to for dear life.  Home is definitely were we are anchored.

The Craziness usually starts with taking Molly (our 10mth old blue heeler/border collie mix) out for her morning bathroom break (that is IF she was able to hold it ‘til Michael or I wake up) and running around in circles. Then comes coffee with a side of breakfast and I am off on my 30min commute (more coffee is essential to this part).  Since Michael and I share a car we always have to coordinate our schedules. If he has to be at work that day or needs the car the craziness is escalated by about 1000.

After work it is another 30min drive home.  No other feeling is quite as good a pulling on to our block and knowing that I am almost home. Molly is always far to energetic and crazy for my taste after being in her kennel all day so it’s another go ‘round in the back yard and dinner for both Molly AND Bruce (Our awesome Cat).  Michael and I are both bad at decision making so dinner is always really nuts. Some T.V./ Blogging/ YouTube/ Video Games and we call it a night. Though the routine varies mildly, for the most part this is our crazy life in our crazy home.  There is never true silence as our water heater rattles and bangs. If it isn’t the water heater the air conditioner roars or the fan blades whirl.  There is also always something to do around the house (be it dishes/laundry/cleaning/cooking). 

Despite all the craziness I love that we are slowly but surely making the house feel like a home. It still has a ways to go but I love the cozy feeling it gives (dog hair and all) and I LOVE that my husband is there with me through all the craziness.  It seems surreal sometimes to think that I am a married woman out on my own making my way in the world. I feel like I am still just playing house sometimes. In the end I am just grateful to have a house full of crazy to go home to.  I know I am blessed and I am so grateful to everything that has led me to where I am today.

Guest Post: Home is where…

I’m so excited today to introduce the lovely Nanci who is my first guest blogger for this “Home is where…” series.  Nanci’s piece echoes many of my own feelings and I know you’ll love what she has to say. Enjoy!

Nanci is a wife, daughter, sister, aunt, niece, friend and dog-mom. She and her hubby live in Clearwater, FL and share their home with two crazy Australian Shepherds. She is self-employed and enjoys reading, writing, running, walking, blogging, scrapbooking, cooking, and family. Having just turned 40 this year, Nanci is on a mission to *try* and be the best person she can be – physically, emotionally, and mentally. It is not always easy.  Check out more from Nanci with these links:

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Home is where my husband is. We are two very busy people, with a lot on our plates for work. Our time together can be limited. He leaves early in the morning and sometimes comes home late. Even when he’s not at work, he’s on call 24/7. I am self-employed and work comes home with me whether I want it to or not. If we are not working, we are likely helping someone out with something, or we are out doing our own hobbies or adventures on the weekend. He enjoys playing paintball; I enjoy walking, running, and blogging. But any time we have together is important to me.

Our time together may be eating dinner together, walking the dogs, going out for ice cream or Starbucks, curling up on the couch and catching up on TV, or a rare night out at the movies. Even if we are not at home, as long as I am with my husband, I am home.

Our first home together was a small 2-bedroom apartment that we made ours very quickly. In typical fashion for us, we had a 2-year plan to get into a house, and we did just that. Moving into a house was a huge thing and our home is absolutely our haven. It’s not fancy or anything really spectacular, but it is ours. Second to being with my husband, I love being home.

My husband and I have very similar qualities but also different qualities that complement each other. His ability to calm me down is something few people in my life have been able to do. When I am with him, I feel safe, loved, and adored. We may not always be in the best moods, but I know regardless that my husband will do anything for me.

This year we will celebrate our 11th anniversary. How is that possible? So much has happened in those 11 years. I think back to when we first got married and things certainly seemed simpler. Life has a way of moving forward and changing whether we are prepared for it or not. Life has thrown us many ups and downs the last six years. But, my husband is my constant in any change or ups and downs that come our way. He calms me and somehow reminds me that we will get through whatever is headed our way.

Home is where I long to be and I know that home is, and always will be, where my husband is.