Waiting
Why wait for our next home to make all my dreams come true? I ponder this because if anything I've learned in my life, permanent isn't a word I would apply to finding a home. We moved a lot growing up, we have moved a lot since we have gotten married. Granted my parents have been in the same home now since I was in middles school...which was about fifteen years ago or so. Still my heart holds out for the permanent though it really feels unfamiliar and so I wait. Wait for the blanket of Peonies I see in my imagination or the climbing rose bushes that will wall in a someday garden. I wait for the windows draped in fabric lovingly displayed in a home for my family reflecting the temple for God in my heart.
Maybe it is the same well the I draw from that yearns for the permanence of Heaven.
Life has so much change, a constant process of death and renewal, loved ones, habits, places, dreams, ideas. Then again as I wait to plant the garden in my imagination, I am reminded that like life, gardens are ever changing. The barren gives way to pansies, daffodils and hyacinth who too will bow their heads and make way for tulips and iris. Vegetables start to grow, spinach at first then tomatoes, cucumbers and strawberries then watermelon and when all seems at its end for new, we see pumpkins in a grand harvest finally and we rest once again.
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