“How’s the new place? Are you getting settled in?”

We are getting settled in, at an astonishing pace, really.
Pictures are on the walls, the kitchen is organized, clothes are in drawers, and laundry is tumbling in the dryer as I type.

Naturally, there is a sea of boxes downstairs, which Tyler believes is his personal stash of packages to open at his leisure.  He has found many a treasure down there; it’s like Christmas morning over and over for him.

(I’ll tackle that organization situation another day.)

But let me tell you this component in the beauty of our settling, because it has little to do with my diligence.

I have a friend with three daughters, all of whom are teenagers, all of whom are homeschooled.  My friend decided that this would be a tremendous homeschooling curricular opportunity: to teach her daughters how to set up a home, how to serve with love, how to live, life on life.

One daughter took the boys’ rooms; one daughter took the kitchen; one daughter mastered my closet.  And I will tell you: all three of those spots are better organized than they ever would have been if I had been left to my own organizational devices.

Seriously, my scarves have never known such color coordination and respect.

This family has modeled extravagant love.  With their long hours, careful folding. hanging pictures, replacing light bulbs, bringing dinner, running errands… you name it.  If it needs done, they put it on their list only to cross it off immediately.

So, are we settled?  Yes, but most assuredly not on our own.

You can hire someone to deliver boxes and hang pictures.  But you cannot hire someone to lovingly fold shirts and place them in a little boy’s drawers.  You cannot hire someone to stand in the kitchen and lovingly imagine me baking there, to identify which places I might reach for utensils when a pot is boiling over.

You can hire utility; you cannot hire love.

I am blessed with both hands.

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