Erik and I live in the basement of my sister's house. We have lived here since September 2008. We share a kitchen and have a living room and bedroom downstairs. It's nice, but it's my sister's house. It feels like my sister's house. I feel like a visitor. We do pay rent and everything, but it's still not ours. I long for a home of my own. I don't even need my "dream home" yet, but I think we need our space more than ever.
We house-sat for a month in September. We had none of our material possessions there (not that we even have many), but it started feeling like home because for that sweet month it was ours. The place we are living in now has never felt like home.
Erik and I dream of having a place where we can develop community. We want our home to be a place of fellowship, of rest, of conversation, of eating, and of peace. We want a place in which we are free to invite people in and bless people with the many blessings that we have.
We want a place to call home.
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