We’ve lived in Rochester, in this new-to-us home, for almost three months.
We’ve been doing a lot to intentionally get settled and entrenched in this area… Working on projects to make this house feel more like ours. Spending time with people to establish relationships that go beyond acquaintance. Having kids over to play to nurture friendships for our boys. Getting involved in the church, school, and community.
And as much as we’ve been embraced and welcomed, as much as we know we are geographically right where we are meant to be, as much as we are loving this new home… there is still an element that feels alien, foreign.
I still have to use my GPS to get to a store and back home again. I have yet to establish a routine for grocery shopping, meal planning, cleaning, and exercising. I still need to change over my drivers license and find a family doctor, dentist, and optometrist. It regularly looks like a strobe light blinking in my house as I’m playing a memory game with the light switches. There are still unpacked boxes, missing possessions, pictures stacked in rows on the dining room floor, and about 70% of the contents of the garage are a mystery to me. (That’s probably where the missing possessions are!) We still make weekly runs to take broken-down cardboard boxes to the recycling center.
We don’t know our favorite restaurants or parks to frequent as a family. We keep saying “next weekend”.
It still feels like we’re just flying by the seat of our pants, waiting for consistency, routine, and normal to fall into our lap.
And, since this has been the state of lives for several weeks, it has felt like that is just how life is going to be in Minnesota – a question mark with each sunrise, acutely aware that we’re transplants.
But Tuesday night, October 3, I was cooking dinner and I pivoted in a smooth, natural movement from the stove to the sink to deposit a dirty spoon. I paused, realizing something special just transpired in that typically uneventful action… muscle memory that comes from knowing the nooks and crannies of your home.
Knowing you’re home.
And just like that, in that simple motion…it felt like home.