𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆

Our family’s little farmhouse has seen so much life over the years.  It’s not new, not freshly decorated, not spotless, but it is ours.  When we bought it 16 years ago it was in sore need of some TLC.  It had seen sorry and in turn sat through neglect.  We spent 9 long months gutting it out and just like birthing a baby, those months were spent birthing our dream.  We turned this house into our home. It became a place of refuge for our family.

When we moved in we brought 4 children with us.  Our tiny little home was bursting at seams, yet what was leaking out was happiness.  Over the next year, we once again waited 9 long months until a tiny little girl joined our family fun.  We called her our farm baby, born the same place where she has grown up.  This house saw her birth, watched the tears of joy we cried, and listened silently as we continued raising our family.

After another year, our tiny house was screaming to be added onto.  We listened, saved, planned, and doubled the size of our home. It was not so little anymore.  Eventually, three more children were added to our ever-growing family.  Then grandbabies joined in the fun.  Even our grandmother moved in for a season.  Through it all this home sat patiently while we inflicted scratches and scars that come while raising a family.  As we worked to repair any damage we often reminded ourselves, “It’s just a farmhouse”.  You see, in an older farmhouse, boards are often a little crooked, doors sometimes squeak, and perfection is often missed. 

Our little farmhouse has witnessed so much joy, but it also holds the secret of sitting with us in our sorrow.  This little home held our little girl’s body when her spirit left for heaven.  It watched as we handed her over never to return to this place.  It waited while we said goodbye, then welcomed us back with a respectful silence.  It listened as we bared our souls and watched as our grief filled tears were shed.  It offered us a welcome reprieve from a busy would.  A place of peace and comfort, of memories and happiness, a place of understanding for our sorrow and our joy.  

This little farmhouse holds no judgement, only comfort for our weary hearts.  Not every house gets to experience the full circle of life, nor are they all privileged to witnesses both birth and death.  Not every house has seen a lifetime of joy and sorrow mixed in a single breath, because not every house gets to be a home.

The untrained eye might simply think “It's just a farmhouse”.

Blessings sweet friends…

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I still believe in Millie’s Miracle

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ Hebrews 11:1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

︵‿︵‿୨☆୧‿︵‿︵

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