I’m sharing from Five Minute Friday…
When I was about eleven years old, my parents moved us to a larger house and I can remember vividly crying my eyes out for weeks. I was the only girl in our little neighborhood, but one who was two years younger. We were best friends.
We moved out of county and I went to another school. It was the end of my life. I was terribly shy and awkward, and had just finished fourth grade. School was a scary place.
Years later, as a pastor’s wife we moved several times. Moving from place to place became the place God was sending us to…next. I tried hard to make the children comfortable, but some moves turned out downright hard. In fact, they seemed wrong for us. But in most places, I dug the earth to plant a garden, and flowers. If in planting I was not planted to that place, it would not plant my children there either.
We had missionaries and neighbors in our home. Family joined us for the holidays. We came together at the table, occasionally food was hastily thrown together, and always something I baked. Baking bread always made a place feel like home to me. And then, of course, popcorn with a movie.
Moving is difficult, but without the right attitude of making a place become home, there is a disconnect. God has a place for all of us, and we only need take hold of his gift. Life struggles are always there, but He is your place, your peace.