While this is a sponsored conversation by American Home Shield, this topic of home has been heavy on my heart since returning from Relevant.
I'd never had a problem with the leaving our house in the past; I've actually never really worried about things breaking or anything because I've always rationalized that things, houses can be replaced.
But leaving behind my home, the place that would house my boys while I was on a five-day trek out to the Relevant Conference -- well, that was inspiring some deeply rooted emotion at the mere sight of our humble abode in my mirrors even about things I normally don't worry.
That morning I smiled as I kissed John before he left for work and giggled along with boys as we embraced and my fingers danced over exposed bellies before I headed out the door; but I couldn't shake the dread that had settled into my stomach upon driving away from the house.
All of the what ifs began creeping into mind.
The fear, gripping and real, about not feeling in control over my life, the lives I love and the house I call home, clenched my heart. In reality, I know that every time I kiss those sweet boys of mine before we part, it could be our last farewell. I know that every day is a gift and that tomorrow isn't guaranteed.
But this trip -- this traveling far away from my physical space of comfort, my home and the fingers that grip so tightly around my heartstrings -- for some reason was fueling the fires of fear in my chest in very real ways; like gasoline atop already-simmering coals, my feeling of being out of control of my every-day life was now a raging firestorm searing my insides.
In those moments of swelling firefear in the heart, it's hard to find even a drop of water to douse even the tiniest flame let alone a fire hose to extinguish the blaze. So I retreated to the only way I know to combat fear:
suffocate it with gratitude.
She likes to remind me that it's physically impossible for gratitude and fear to simultaneously exist in the mind. The two emotions run the same pathways in the brain; it simply cannot be done.
So like an insomniac counts sheep or stars, I began counting my blessings -- one by one by one; I started with the gifts most on my mind.
Thank you, God, for my husband.
Thank you for my boys.
Thank you, God, that very thing -- my home -- that very blessing that sent me into this tailspin of fear ultimately brought me to this place of thanksgiving so that I could begin again to trust.
What has home meant to you lately? Has the thought of home sparked any thoughts in your mind?
This conversation was sponsored by American Home Shield, provider of Home Warranty Services to help with the inevitable breakdown of major home appliances and components. I was kindly compensated for the time it took to write these thoughts about home.