There are days since our move that I miss California so much. I miss the familiarity of my home state, the places I grew up around, the fact that we could hop in the car and go to the beach first thing in the morning, then drive up to the mountains for lunch, and then end our day looking at the stars while sitting on the desert. It's always going to be "home", I guess. But then comes a gentle (or, ok...sometimes a not so gentle) reminder(s) of the many reasons we moved.
As I sit here this morning, I watch my 13 year old sipping a cup of mostly milk and sugar with a little coffee added for flavor--as he reads The Hobbit. He is up and ready for a class that he had signed up for at his new school...and he's not complaining. He's not even remotely upset that he's up so early on this balmy summer morning, because he really likes it there! He likes the people there, and he finally feels at home. He's looking forward to going away to camp with his new friends and starting this adventure of a new school, new classes, new teachers and new church!
We may not be familiar with Franklin, yet. We're still busy learning how the streets connect, and finding out where the closest book stores, skate shops and ice cream parlors are located. But even in this lack of familiarity, there is a comfort that can only be described as being "home".
I'm thankful we listened to God's direction and moved so very far outside of our comfort zone! I'm so happy that He has blessed each one of us in a way that makes us feel this move was for us--individually. But it wasn't. It's just that only God can bless four different people, with different needs, at the exact same time within one move!
**Thankful** is the word of the day.