The House That Built Me

Have you heard Miranda Lambert's song, The House That Built Me?

I LOVE it and it makes me soo teary everytime I listen to it.

I guess it makes me nostalgic.

I can see seven year old self, running through the garage door and flopping my backpack on the dining room table. Even at seven I can almost remember sighing and thinking I was home. A place I was secure in, loved in and that gave me so much comfort. Away from the scary world, teasing words of kids at school and the frustrating math that I just could not get.

This was home.

This is where my little sister and I played countless hours of baby dolls in the floor of our shared bedroom floor. Where we cooked up scary concoctions of food and our Daddy would try everyone with a smile on his face. The place that brought us coolness from the long summer days of playing outside and warmth from the fires my Moma begged my Daddy to make in the winter months. It's where I learned to loved books as I saw my Moma reading ever spare second she had and where I'd hide with my flashlight under my covers to finish a chapter when I should have been in bed. Where we sang, danced and even laughed with our big brother while he would do silly superman tricks in our doorway at night just so we'd giggle. It's floor was a soft place to lay to watch the Wonder Years, Saved by the Bell and Steve Erkel. As we grew our friends never stopped coming to this place. It held countless slumber parties, girls over to practice cheerleading and the Dawson Creek evenings of friends gathered once a week during our last few years of high school. My Uncle and cousin taught me to ride my bike in the circle drive way around the house, the same one that Daddy taught me to drive my straight shift little truck. It was the place I ran to when I was afraid of the changing life outside it's walls, where my Moma stayed up all hours taking care of me when I had a headache, and where my sister and I had more late night talks than I can remember. This was the place that did make me....me! It was the place where our family was just the five of us (now 14 including the spouses and kids). It was where my memories began, where I learned, where I truly became a Christian (I remember going to my parents bedroom to talk as we were all taking Sunday naps after church to talk to them about my heart and Christ), where I found strength, family and security. This was my home and I'll never forget the house that built me.

Now my brother, his wife. nieces and nephew live there. I can only hope it gives them the childhood it gave me and that the Bluff home will do the same for whatever little ones God brings through our doors.