Well, the very cute little house that we are renting is just about ready. Yard cleaned, lawn mowed, interior painted, floors redone. We will sign the lease probably Monday and camp out there until the May 6th, when our moving crew (aka: us, my grandparents, a few trucks and trailers with help from friends on either end) will bring all of our lovely stuff from Katy and we will officially live in Natchez.
Since Hurricane Katrina, our home has been various places. I am strange in that "home" is not a particular town or house for me. When I think "home", I think of the whole South. I think of laughter and of tears, I think of friends coming to visit and a place where family is reunited. In a sense, I have always been at home. Even when I was away from my house and family last summer for 5 weeks, I felt at home where I was. I suppose as long as you are in the place God wants you, home can be anywhere.
A wise friend stated it best. During the time when we weren't sure where we were going to live, someone asked me "Robin, where do you live?" I opened my mouth to answer, but had no idea what to say. I looked over to this wise person and gasped "Did you hear that? She just asked me where I lived!" "Ahh," was the reply as they turned towards my questioner "she lives in the Lord's hands." Then turning back to me, said "There's no better place to be".