As I shuffled around my house, frantically moving piles from one spot to the next so I could capture a decent shot, the mental checklist of disclaimers kept getting longer. We’ve lived in this house for three years now (wow, has it really been that long?) and there are still blank spaces on the wall I have yet to fill, items that move from basket to basket because they still don’t have a designated space, and projects that have been placed on the back-burner for months.

I still have big plans for the upstairs loft, for the empty doorway of our closet where a barn door should be, and our little laundry nook. But the truth is, this is home. This is reality and I love it because it’s mine and I am deeply aware of the immense blessing that is.

So, please excuse the mess. And don’t be fooled by the close-ups— you can be assured that just out of frame is dirty dish rag or a plastic dinosaur. If you look closely enough, you are sure to catch the messy imperfections of simply being human.

Maybe one day it will be exactly as I have always envisioned. But that day is not today and I won’t keep putting off sharing it as it as; just as I won’t put off sharing myself as I am, the very embodiment of a work-in-progress. 

So, welcome to my home.