The MOVE

Our house.
Our home.

I understand the difference, but somewhere the line became blurred.

Surrounded by the packed boxes filled with our memories, I began to feel the heartache of moving.  

Blake and I moved from the house we lived in for 6 years.  As I reminisce about the days when we bought the house - a young couple (26 years old), career oriented, spiritually invested, and dreaming of filling the bedrooms with little ones....it makes me sad to let go.

We began as two and left as four.  So, a little part of me will always be there.

We brought two babies through those doors for the first time.

We established ourselves as a family between those walls.

We painted nurseries and put together cribs in those bedrooms. 

We watched our babies take their first steps on those floors.

We smiled as our boys' laughter echoed through those hallways.

A house became our home.

Leaving was hard.  I cried the moment the moving trucks pulled up in the driveway, until I went to bed that night.

I was sad.  Blake was not.
I was sentimental.  Blake was not.

So, he helped reassure me that the decision was a good one that we had prayed about for years. 

We sold our house and bought a house in the same week. It was just meant to be.  

But moving away from these sweet faces made the transition a difficult one.

I couldn't love them more than I do my own family. 

We walked in those doors as two, 

and we walked out for the last time as four.

Excited about this chapter in our family. 
No matter where we go or what our address is, I realize that my home is with Blake and my sweet boys, and I couldn't be more thankful.

On to new beginnings...