on the threshold of home

the four hour drive feels shorter and shorter as each year passes with us still making it. it's been seven years since we've really lived there, but somehow the longing remains.

much has changed in those years -- university diplomas, marriage certificates, and a birth certificate are among the most tangible -- and while I've often thought we too had changed, so much so that going back wasn't an option, here we stand.

the drive used to feel so lengthy. so time-consuming. at first, the leaving was the longest. I won't lie: there was a time when packing up the car to come to this small university town brought many tears to my eyes. but time after time of making the trip brought more security, more friendship, more community; eventually this place felt like it had become a second home.

it will always hold a place so dear in my heart, this small town. it's where I've learned and loved. I've learned to love. this is where I was reintroduced to the Jesus who had captured my heart at fifteen. my first apartment as a married woman is here. I've made decisions that would affect my future, my career, my life. my first child has grown here, from conception to birth and now eight beautiful months into life. I have grown here, from teenager to adult, from single to married, from childless to mother.

from lost to set free.

and now we return. to what we've long considered the old ways, but are new once again to us.
years + growth will do that -- turn something old into something brand new again.

and just like that, we're going home.

writing with Lisa Jo Baker for Five Minute Friday. 

hop on over + see how others interpret home.