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I will spare myself and you the list of homes that I have had in the past 10 years, but as we prepare to make yet another (desired) move I can’t help but ponder what home means. I married a man who has feet restless to walk new paths, eyes yearning to take in new sights, and a heart longing to share life with others. They say opposites attract, but in our case we have been very similar. I also longed for new and fresh places to explore; I like the sight of worn soles on a pair of comfy boots. I think that this a good quality to have considering the direction in which we are headed. As our family has expanded to hold four rather than two, I have become more torn. I still desire to go, see and do, but I desire to plant roots. I want stability and familiarity for my girls. I want my children to actually know their grandparents, not just see pictures. I want close friends to walk through life with which is not easy when only a few short seasons are spent in one place. I find myself continually yanking out roots because I don’t want to form deep attachments that will hurt too much sever. I fall into the world of temporary where I don’t like to fully unpack my suitcase. I haven’t yet learned how to fully embrace and live where I am now. But as I take steps closer to that place of true Home; this is some of the beauty that I have been given to enjoy.