Home "Making"

Home

can be a place.

It can be a person or a group of people.

And I am of the opinion that it can also be a belief or knowledge.

Laying that broad definition aside, I believe that it is an innate human desire to create. For me specifically, to create a home. To physically make a space not solely for shelter, but a safe haven, a place to create, a place to worship, a place to live freely.

President Dieter F Uchtdorf once said, " The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent desire to create something that did not exist before..."

 

 

And I am the proud new occupant of 608 square feet of beautiful opportunities.

I am a homemaker.

 

It might be easy when we hear the title of "homemaker" to solely envision cooking, cleaning, and child care (unless you are way to literal and are thinking architect). Based on your experience, you might be thinking of a mother (or father) who does not work out of the home. Or you could be thinking of the mother who knows 10 ways to make lasagna, volunteers with the PTA, and makes her own soap. And anywhere in between. I am grateful for all parents, who stay at home or work; this isn't a commentary on stay at home or working moms because I love and appreciate the sacrifices of both sides. What I am trying to say is that there is yet another definition for "homemaker"- very literally, one who makes a house a home.

I'm not sure there is any science or explanation for the profound difference between a house and a home, but I know there is one. Maybe it's the amount of laughter and tears, or music and passion. Maybe it's the comforts and conveniences. How each individual and family does that is unique of course. One part is cleanliness and organization. Perhaps another is decoration. A big one is light. Those physical factors do play a part in the atmosphere of a home--physical things we can carefully plan and arrange. However, overall, I think it is the Spirit in the home. A very tangible, if not measurable, peace and joy. A very real feeling that envelopes visitors and makes them comfortable and well,... at home. There is definitely something divine about the mission to "make" a home, a sacred responsibility to make a sanctuary from the world.

It has been exciting to move into my new apartment and unpack, to see my sunflower canisters in the kitchen, my sister's artwork on my walls, my rocking chair nestled in the corner with my favorite afghan, the diffuser quietly humming, and of course, my piles of books everywhere (because I still need a bookshelf). Wow, I sound like an old spinster.  But more than the sheer excitement of the adventure, there is something so profound in the creation of my home. From listening to conference talks as I get ready in the morning, pouring my heart in prayer in every room from the kitchen to the bedroom, studying the scriptures sprawled out on the air mattress, and reading my favorite books curled up with hot cider, I can feel that wonderful peace and joy spreading to every nook and cranny.

As my life grows, changes, and evolves over the coming years, I'm sure my home"making" will as well. Just as it has from going to college and having roommates, then serving a mission and having companions. And I look forward to everything stage of home creation that is still to come.

 

 

 

A Step In The Dark

When I was a little girl, one of my sisters (who shall remain unnamed, even though you all pretty much know who) loved to scare me. Jumping out from behind doors, hiding under the bed, telling me scary stories about a crazy boogie man that ate little girls when they didn't go to bed on time. It was exacerbated by my fear of the dark, a fear that has not completely left me even in adulthood. In the light I can see where I'm going, I know which direction to take. I love the warmth of the sun on my skin and the golden glow cast as the sun rises and sets. Those same physical properties apply spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. I like to know where I'm going and what is going to happen. I prefer to be warm and safe and know the end point. But life doesn't usually work that like. In fact, if we could see and understand everything, there would be no testing. There would be no need for faith.

But we do need faith.
And courage.

Two weeks ago I packed up everything I owned, shipped it out on a truck, and flew 1700 miles to a place I've never lived before, where I have no family and only a couple friends. I started a new job full-time and I am in the process of setting up my own apartment. That might be closer to a leap than just a step into the dark. After all, there are no miracles until after the trials of faith. Like stepping into a room and fumbling a bit before finally finding the light switch. And light has indeed flooded the way before me as I've made these steps. Sitting in the first dedicatory session of the Gilbert Arizona Temple, I felt an overwhelming peace and assurance wash over me. I know I am where I am supposed to be. I know I am where the Lord needs me to be at this next stage of my life. And I cannot even fathom all He has in store for me.

 "If ye will have faith in me ye shall have power to do whatsoever thing is expedient in me." 

- Moroni 7:33