From House to Home

Since moving here I have wondered on more than one occasion, "At what point does a house become a home?"  I know all the adages: "Home is where the heart is" and "Together spells Home" and while that is all true, there is something special about a space that has been transformed from a building into a place where you feel comfortable, at peace and at "home" in.

I remember going to Marilyn Elliot's transition talk at the beginning of the semester and hearing her say that you would know transition was over when you pulled up to your new place and had the feeling of coming home.  For the past few months I've been anxiously awaiting that moment.  We went on vacation and came back.. no feeling.  We went to Indiana and came back... no feeling.  We went to Cincinnati and came back... no feeling.  Finally, Christmas vacation - all the way to PA with the whole family for a whole week and came back... no feeling.  I was starting to think it was never going to happen.  I still felt like I was coming from vacation to a new vacation.  Living in a rental full of our things but never really feeling like it was our place.

It bothered me, I admit it.  Maybe I just want transition to be over.  Maybe I want to move fully into this next phase of our life and for some reason I felt like I had to wait for this magical moment to say, "Yay, we are ALL here."  But as I took some time to reflect on the whole fickle feeling thing, I realized that for me, home was never about the building or the space but about the people and the memories.  And while we've had a great time here in Wilmore since we moved, the memories are only 6 months old and that's what I was missing.  When we visited my parents in PA and could see our old house from their deck, it wasn't the house I remembered as I looked at it.  I remembered "Caleb's room" and "Naomi's room" and the parties we had and the kids playing in the backyard and, you know, the people things.

And that brings me to last night.  Last night was cold.  Last night was wonderful.  Last night I finally had.. the feeling.  I had it when a friend wrapped her arms around me and said, "Thanks for inviting us into your home."  And while she was standing in our house, I know she wasn't talking about the space; she was talking about our home, the life of our family and the joy of our fellowship.  

On Saturday when Luke and I read the news of the crazy Arctic freeze headed our way, we decided to invite our neighbors to our house for a "Stone Soup" Open House.  "Bring some soup or a loaf of bread to share" we said.  What better way to spend the coldest night of the year than with warm friends, hot soup and lots of laughter.  At 5:30 our home began to fill up with fantastic aromas of delicious soups and fresh baked breads and joy of friends and neighbors coming to share in the bounty.  

Our house was full!  Kids upstairs, adults downstairs and toddlers everywhere.  For over two hours we shared a night of warmth in the midst of the frozen bluegrass.  It didn't matter that the electricity kept blinking off and on and that each time the door opened a blast of frigid air would hit the room and send everyone crowding around our tiny fireplace and bowls of warm soup.

And as the night ended and our friends hugged us and left and we started cleaning up and putting the house back in order, the feeling hit me like a brick.  We were home.  This is home to us.  Home is love shared.  Home is joy in community.  Home for us is inviting others into our lives.  It's the memories made and the laughter shared and the meals taken together and the time spent with each other.  Honestly, it had been a rough day leading up to the evening.  Cabin fever was officially setting it and we were all a bit on edge.  But after the evening with our friends, we were all full and happy and completely at home.

I jokingly said that I should write a post called, "How to make a house a home" but I realize that our experience is just that, our experience.  It may not be the same for you and your family.  But can I say this?  It really isn't about the space, although after last night I do feel more like this space is home; it really is about the love, the memories of shared moments that fall on the background of the space you are in.  If I close my eyes and remember last night, I see this house, this space and I know that when I move away and I close my eyes and remember Wilmore in the future, this house, this space will be the background for many of my most cherished moments.  So for me, this house, this space has become... home.