white walls and plastic towel bars.

i brought her home in a tiny bundle. she had on so many layers. holding her without knowing, she seemed three times as big as she was. it was so cold. much colder than today. i can remember unwrapping her, layer-by-layer. there she was. three days old. in her new purple room. it was there i nursed her. and there i stopped nursing her. it was there i got up three times a night. and there i checked on her when she started sleeping through the night. she rolled over there, sat up there, smiled there, laughed there, crawled there and stood there. she will never be there again.

tomorrow morning we'll turn in our keys to our apartment in plano. we cleaned the heck out of it this afternoon, and it sparkles. ellie's purple room is no more. i walked through each room slowly before i locked it for the last time. it's just a little apartment. nothing special. white walls and plastic towel bars.

it's so weird how places hold such meaning. the places themselves are nothing. just empty rooms. but they're so important to us - the backdrop of every picture catalogued in our minds.

it was sad, but i'm ready to go home. yes, home. san angelo is home now. it hasn't felt like it so much this month. i've felt like we've been on vacation. but when we go back this time, landon starts work and it will feel more like normal.

at least i'm banking on that.

we have beige walls in san angelo. and the towel bars are porcelain, i do believe.

fancy upgrade, huh...

tonight i'm praying that the Lord has other upgrades planned for us in our new home. i pray that He tears down my white walls and allows His grace, love and mercy to flow freely through me. i pray He snaps my plastic towel bars and urges me to reach out to others and show them the amazing things of which He is capable.

build me a new backdrop, Lord.

i am ready.