My slice of heaven...it looks like this.
this is the place I come each morning.
it is the place I end each day,
giving thanks, for all that I have been given.
It is also the place where I sometimes cry out for more.
It is the slice that I have been given.
The house that rests here is not perfect, it is not me.
It does not represent who I am in many ways.
The people in this house is what makes it my home
makes it all I could ever want it to be.
It isn't fancy,
it isn't new.
It is where conversations about
big things and little things take place.
Where dreams are shared.
fears are put to rest.
Where love is done right
parenting sometimes done wrong.
It is where mistakes are made.
Where wounds from a cold, world are healed.
Where we see the light at the end.
It is where some amazing memories have been made.
It has known the saddest of times
some delightful times as well.
It knows all the hurts, the aches, the ups and downs.
It knows my children's hearts.
It knows my heart.