A House Isn't A Home

Yesterday at church, my pastor made a very profound statement that hasn't left my mind since the moment he uttered the words...

"A house isn't a home. A home is created by it's ambiance."

My husband always accuses me of wanting our house to be too perfect. Perfect in the sense that I like things in the proper places at the proper times. I like each and every toy to be put in the bin that I have spent my own time labeling! I like the tables dusted and the laundry folded just right. I like the beds to look like they were made by a soldier at boot camp--you know, the kind that would bounce a quarter off if it were tested by the seargent.

I felt completely convicted by the previous statement that was made by my pastor. It was months ago that I came to the realization that I spend more time worrying about how my house looks, than worrying about sitting down and spending quality time with my precious children. I reply , "Later," to the kids when I should reply, "Later," to my housework.

So while I indeed felt convicted by the statement, I realized that if a home is created by it's ambiance, my home should be pictured in Webster's dictionary under the defintion of a home. It certainly doesn't lack ambiance. I could make a list a mile long of the aspects of my home that create it's ambiance. I will share just a few...

A noise level that rarely drops below 100 on the sound scale.
Walls that bare the faces of my beauties.
Walls that bare the dirty handprints of my beauties.
Walls that bare the food my beauties ate for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Snack, too!
Dirty clothes that are scattered about the house.
A laundry room that is piled high with not only clothes to be washed, but more to be put away!
Toys in the guest room.
Toys in the living room.
Toys in the girls' rooms.
Toys in Isaacs room.
Toys in MY room!
Toys in the bathroom!
Little shoes all over the floor in the dining room that have missed the shoe bin.
A missing rung on the stair case that Isaac tried to lasso, not once, but twice.
A sliding screen door that barely holds the screening in place anymore.
A hole in the wall behind my bedroom door that I made--better to hit the wall than the husband! True?

My house is certainly a home. From yesterday on, I've agreed to no longer look at the chaos in my home as "messes." I will look at them as the wonderful details that add ambiance to my home.