Stone Hill Homestead

I wish I could do better about chronicling this part of our lives. Better about the pictures. Better about the words. But it all feels rather cautious.

I’m not sure how exactly to put into words the way my heart breaks at the idea of moving away from StoneHill. I love this home we have made in our tiny meadow in the woods. I don’t understand what God is doing. And I still question if this is really happening.

And yet, there is excitement in the dream. More acres? We’re using all the corners of this house. We talk of someday being foster parents. It couldn’t happen in this house.

But this business of starting over in a new community? Mixed emotions.

I don’t think I will ever again count on this or that home being my forever until heaven home. The only thing I can do is “be where my feet are.” Heaven is the forever home. We’re pilgrims and strangers.

Also, I’m tired of grief. I don’t really know what to do about this. Too much that was lost and so much that never came to be. I’m still not sure what there is to show for all of that. There are scattered fairy glass pieces of answers. But there are a lot of unanswered questions. I carry that around in my chest more than I pay attention to. But it’s there under the surface.

So we stand at the end of a chapter.  There is nothing for it but to turn the page–hoping there are answers there. And that in the pursuit of them, we don’t ruin our kids. But we’ve been fingering the page for long enough. That limbo must end.

We might have another year on StoneHill, but we’re actively house shopping out of state. We don’t know how fast or slow this process will take. Meanwhile we also are trying to hold it all with an open hand and if God wants to change all the plans again He can.