Home Incredibly Dirty Home

Our last few days have been busy with moving a 70 something year old man out of the house we bought from him.
After waiting a week past the time he was supposed to be out, we finally went to him and offered a trailer, and man power. And last evening when I showed up with supper and realized how slowly the process was going because of his inability to pack boxes quickly, I offered to help him pack.
This has been stretching for me.
I've spent the last six months planning and processing and preparing for the work that goes into taking a never-cleaned-in-ten-years house, and creating a clean and pretty home out of it. It's been an exciting time for me, full of Pinterest board ideals, and journal list reality.
And then to be pushed off, and off, even by a few days at a time, has been good for my Christianity
Today Josh and Brad took the day off and the three of us moved an incredible mountain of boxes (of seemingly trash), to a storage unit. I am convinced that the only reason we were able to accomplish so much today was because of friends and family praying for us. God is faithful.
I found three dead mice and layers upon layers of mouse poop. I found tin cans. I found gospel CDs of music, I found filthy movies, I found koolaid and I found squash. It was amazing. Mostly though, I think I found a lonely old man who needs Jesus. Pray for Mr.G.
Tomorrow morning Josh and Brad are planning to take part of the day off and help him finish moving out of the house. I plan to go in, in the afternoon, and begin the colossal chore of cleaning the bathroom. 
Also tomorrow Anne Hazel turns one year old. I'm amazed. How can this be? But I'm happy too. Life moves forward at a cheerful rate for us right now.
My mom and sister are coming by Thursday afternoon to help begin painting. I'm so excited to have them helping with this project!
  Hoping to post pictures of our new home sometime in the near future.
God bless! - Mrs. Cross

Home Is Where The Heart Is

We got home from a trip, a glorious trip, full of lovely family times. A trip that was two weeks long. A trip that had me FRANTIC to be home in my own house, with no one but my tiny family.
I'm not a people person. Traveling I can handle, I love the rare chances that Josh and I get to take an eighteen wheeler and head to far away places. But people, please give people to me in small amounts, with deep conversations happening only within my comfort zone.
We landed on our own doorstep on Monday evening. And I've been reveling in the wonderfulness of quiet and peace and my own thoughts.
My own thoughts have been rotating around the absolute safety and happiness of being home. Blessedly home. Where coloring happens in my two lovely new books. Music happens at my own volume. And baby one on one happens to my heart's content.
And then Anne came down with a cold, and was up too many times to count last night.
And today was a constant struggle to keep back tears over small things.     We left the baby with my mother in law at six thirty and headed to Lincoln to do my mountain of grocery shopping. And try to find clothes to fit post baby me.
And it was a nightmare. And I cried.  Kara Graber I looked up Matthew West because of something you put on Instagram and found Strong Enough. 
Pieces fell together.
Home is where the heart is, literally.
202 B Street isn't going to magically keep my heart safe, or my emotions, or my baby, or anything. Because there are humans there. Humans who get colds. And humans who struggle with their self image. And humans who struggle to be happy when their supper is late.
This is when I'm glad that I don't have to be strong enough.
And that HE is. And that my heart is home in Heaven.