It seems like for the first time in a very, very long time that I have a home. For me “home” has always been whatever building that all my family is in. It seems like there isn’t any one building that my family lives in anymore. My baby brother has moved off to collee. (If you want to talk about feeling old…) But it really isn’t a sad thing. I’m so proud of my brother, he’s going to finally have an opportunity to prove to everyone else how smart he is, how responsible he is. It’s so weird to have “home” away from them. I’m really not complaining, I’m really greatful for what we have. This has been the most wonderful, grace-filled period of my entire life.  I understand why everyone says that this is the best time in your whole life.  For so long we’ve just been “waiting” Waiting to be married, waiting to have a “real” job, waiting to live in a “real” house with a “real” family. How surreal is it that we’re finally “here”. What does that mean, anyway? On this earth do you really ever find “here”?

Instead of looking for what I’m going to do with the rest of my life (I’m still not certain as to what that is.) It’s pretty cool to be able to look for purpose in every day, every conversation, ever tiny event. I don’t know why I’m here. So many days I feel so unequipped to do this job. How cool is it, though that I have no idea what’s going on half the time, but God blesses it anyway? In spite of my weaknesses and lack of faith and knowledge, God has blessed me, my husband, my job, my church, everything. God has given us a calm in the storm. A chance to catch our breaths. And while I know that a storm is comming, I am so greatful for my life. For a chance to finally use the things that God put inside of me to use for His glory. I preached a sermon a few weeks ago. In front of a real church, with real people. But instead of it terrifying me, it was okay. While I am flawed, God used me. How long did I pray for that? To be used while all along he was doing it. For the first time ever I’m okay with the fact that I’m not good enough. Instead of getting all defensive when someone corrects my mistakes, I feel like I understand that it’s not really me living anyway. So who really cares if I mess up?  This is gone on too long and is totally unike any of my other posts. It just seems important to me that I share how I am blessed. How God blesses His children, even when they don’t deserve it. Honestly, who meets their husband when they’re 16 years old?  If you ever need to hear about how God is alive, and real, and walking around in the bodies of His children, please come talk to me. I’ve got some pretty insain stories.

Sorry to ramble. I love you guys Have a great day. Come visit us and the puppy.