A little change of perspective never hurt anyone...

My family moved last weekend. Weird, right? We lived on good'ol 25th street for 15 years! It's kinda sad... I mean... we made a whiffle ball stadium in our backyard. And we had an NCAA tournament bracket made out of duct tape on an entire wall in our basement. Those right there are just sad to leave. And raise your hand if you ever played lava monster with us downstairs in the pit. Or slid down our stairs with pillows and sleeping bags. Or took part in an epic nerf gun fight with dozens of nerf guns and hundreds of darts over the entire basement floor. Or were chased down the long wood floor with a tailless scorpion from a mean older brother. Or ever walked into our house on a Saturday morning to hear Disney music blasting to every square inch of the house thanks to a very loud, centrally located stereo. Or ever simply walked across the street to our house for lunch (or to miss seminary) in the Poston days. Or ever walked into our laundry room in utter amazement at all the random crafting things and odds and ends my mom had hoarded over the past few decades. Let's just say, lots of good memories were had in that warm little home.

But alas, it is no more.

Over the past few weeks I've been thinking about how weird it's going to be to go home at Christmas to a different house, to one i've never even seen. Will it be home?

Yesterday I went to the temple and as I was waiting in the chapel (I live in Rexburg, you have to wait at least an hour no matter what time of day you go) I opened up the Bible Dictionary to the word temple and started reading. As I read "...Only the home can compare to the temple in sacredness" my whole perspective changed. It just hit me that it doesn't really matter where home is, the size or location of the four walls that surround you aren't what matters. To me home isn't a place, it's a feeling. It's the warm, comfortable, welcoming atmosphere of being with your family. I was reminded that our homes can be a house of the Lord wherever they may be. Memories and good times will come no matter what - they don't depend on the place, but the people and the spirit.

It was a very comforting reminder and change of perspective. I'm grateful for those moments. 

When I get home, instead of thinking of all the changes because we no longer have room for half of our Christmas decorations, i'll just be grateful we have the opportunity of being together this Christmas. We have truly been blessed. (And probably the fact that this whole moving mess has been longer and more stressful than we anticipated has made us more welcome to the fact that it finally happened.) Who knew good things come from stress, uncertainty, and change of plans? (Easy for me to say, I wasn't home for all of it... bahahaha).

See you next week new house!