This probably has just as much to do with preparing my heart for this journey; as it is just the serenity of "The Garden House". That's what I have affectionately named this place, "The Garden House" on Moon Road, although we are a hop, skip, and jump away from Moon Road... Everything about it is like that of a story. We jokingly say, "It's like living in the Shire". The breeze blows the trees and makes an ocean-like sound. The array of birds chirp and sing and squabble. Even the hornets seem to have a tune they play. The soft purple of the wisteria on the gazebo is wanting to burst any moment. And the thorns on the antique roses are starting to green.
The Garden House feels alive too. Like she sighed with relief when our boxes arrived. Settled. Secure. Home again. Like she knew this was the family that would live, eat, breathe here again. The family that would laugh, cry, sing, dance, and die here. I'm a woman of sentiment... and the idea of cutting our Christmas tree from this land makes my heart dance. I can already smell the mulling spices heating on the wood stove, and see the candlelit stockings hung nearby... The boys bounce on the trampoline now smiling and giggling. They walk in the grass and I just see the excitement of a new adventure in their eyes. Well, mostly mischief in Josiah's eyes, and the need of a nap in Jude's, but still... Possibilities.
There are still boxes to unpack, the garden needs tilled and planted, and there's still a few things on the list to check off, but finding a home isn't one of them. I'll always remember mom looking at pictures of The Garden House online and saying, "This is our house! THIS is the house God has for us.". And here we are. In the "happy place" we always imagined. What a privilege and a gift. Our needs have been met. And there are only God and the Desmond's to thank.
