Sharing Our Home

I love our new home.  To be honest, I'm surprised that it feels like 'home' instead of 'a house' so quickly.  We've settled into our rhythm, with the one minor exception that we still can't figure out a great 'who is going to get the mail when' system.

One of the things I've loved most about these past few weeks are those times when we've been able to have friends and family over.  We had a housewarming party, and I laughed myself silly watching my nieces and nephews run around the circle of the first floor.  Hubs had a bunch of guys from church over for Zombie Movie Monday to help eat the leftovers from said housewarming party.  Sidenote:  I hate zombie movies, but it's something that brings the guys together every other week and they love it, so we women normally hide at someone else's house to watch the Sing Off and stuff our faces with chocolate.

And now, we're moving into a new season of sharing our home.  There's a guy at our church who needs a place to stay for a few weeks, and he'll be here on Friday.  To be honest, I'm a little worried, mainly because I've never lived with any boy except my dad, brother and Hubs.  But the thing is that I really believe that God does not just call us to be hospitable when it's convenient or easy for us.  Mike needs a place to live.  We have an extra bedroom.  It's not easy, but that's what the church is in day to day life.  Inconvenient.  Messy.  And full of unexpected blessings.