I am not a particularly luxurious person. I have always thought of myself as having a simple lifestyle. I have not spent a ton of money on possessions; my focus has been on experience and adventures. I still have the very first couch that I bought over 25 years. The beautiful bedroom set that I bought decades ago I gave away to family members when I moved to Washington, DC. I never did replace it with anything as lovely. I live in and odds and sods home. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy friends and family who have created beautiful homes with stunning decor. I love beautiful things – I have always thought I am part crow. I like shiny. I love comfortable. But I am also not that concerned with appearances. My life has been more about exploring the world around me.
I am now settling in to my new home – a luxurious condo in a smaller high-rise on one of the classiest streets in my city. The reaction from friends has been hilarious. They know me so well. Nope, I’ve never lived in a high-rise before. No, I never thought that my address would entail living on the Crescent. I have never had such a spectacular river/skyline view before. Yeah, my furniture doesn’t really go with the beauty of the space. I am a granola girl living in a dream world of sorts. I have lived in wonderful homes that I have enjoyed in neighbourhoods that have felt comfortable. In fact, my current home is really only a few blocks from the place that I lived the longest, outside of my childhood home. As I walked to my church this afternoon, I realized that I have missed this neighbourhood on some levels. The truth of the matter is I tend to bloom wherever I am planted.
I have lived in a variety of places all over the world and I have been happy because it has never really been about the space. It has always been about the people and shared experiences within the place. For example, in Washington, the six of us interns sharing that house had to deal with cockroaches which was a brand-new experience. Perhaps that prepared me for the mice infestation that I had two years ago. I have lived in my friends’gorgeous home with their most excellent backyard paradise. I have shared community a number of times in my life, but mostly I have lived alone.
Tonight, having handed in the keys to the old place, I decided to pause and take the evening to just enjoy this new space. I made a cup of hot chocolate and watched TV. I tried out the bathtub, with Epson salts to ease my aching muscles and candlelight to soothe my soul. It already feels very much like home to me.
This granola girl is weary to the bone but if I look past the tiredness, I feel great contentment about being here and hopeful for all that will unfold in the space. I look forward to sharing the experience with some of you.
What does home mean to you?
How well do your friends know you?
Jesus, you knew that home was so much more than a place to lay your head. Home is a place to celebrate relationships, restore the soul, and welcome you in. I thank you for this new abode. May it be a blessing to me and to all who enter here. Amen.