Turning into our neighborhood, late last night after a long road trip, my first thought was how much I love home. Our outside lights were shining a warm welcome, as we all piled out of the van and quickly fell into our own beds. Home at last.

Our home is a place, but it is also has an atmosphere. There is freedom within these walls to belong, to learn, to ask questions, to make mistakes, to try again, to forgive, to be imperfect, to be known, to be seen, to laugh, to cry and sometimes yell. I am often tempted to put demands on those within to measure up to an unobtainable standard, but realize it comes from my own insecurities and fears. I am learning to be approachable, honest and welcoming and it impacts our family. One of the many things I wished I would have learned earlier, but the God I know lets me start again each day.