December 13.

This season always goes too quickly, in my estimation. It’s funny; I have memories of waiting for weeks and weeks for the big day when finally all of those presents under the tree would be fair game–whatever happened to all of those weeks? Could it be that they were swallowed up with adult responsibilities and pragmatism? Yes, it could be.

Our apartment looks wonderfully festive. It’s been fun for me to create our own little winter wonderland with snowflakes and garlands, candles and boughs–and of course, music. We sit in the evening and just soak it all in. It blesses him, and that blesses me.

But it’s not quite what my heart was expecting. It’s enjoying the chubby snowman sitting in the window and all, but what about the house with the red roof? Where are all of the kids? And why is that one tin of cookies lasting so long? Where are all of the people hanging out each night? Aren’t there any little boys here who squeal each time there’s a new gift slipped under the decorated branches?

Yes, there are fun things and there are hard things. Lots of fun things… but, some hard things.

Tonight I’m hoping to slip over to that red-roofed home and watch a Hallmark movie with my mom and sisters. It’ll be fun, sitting on a familiar couch with familiar sights and sounds and siblings.

And then I’ll come back to this little apartment, and I’ll probably notice this: I might miss the red roof, but my heart is learning. This is home.