In an effort to take advantage of our day off, I sit in the office looking out into our cozy, downtown apartment. Looking back into old entries never published, I found one written out of frustration and annoyance. Starting off our first few months of marriage we lived out of basements and coffee shops. My thoughts throughout the time? Read on.
"Here I am on the other side of the counter. Once a devoted barista, I have become a coffee sitter, a nomad among the many in the world of transitional stages. Do I despise my situation because I am most likely the object of annoyance to the local coffee shop owners? (many thanks to those who welcome those who create their office, living room, and rest room out of their business) I myself never looked on the sitter with disdain (as long as he made an effort to spend his coinage and to share his space with fellow paying customers). Yet, what are they thinking when every couple of hours they glance across the room to see the same table occupied by the same customer? Oh to have my own place of peace that invites me warmly home to just 'be'."
A smile creeps onto my face as I recall the stress we suffered together through many unnatural and less-than-ideal situations that Matt and I found ourselves in. Praise the Creator for His
provision of a home of rest.
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Matt in our living room, feet nestled on the coffee table and mind engaged in his book all the while the sunlight and brisk fall breeze pour through the windows
.
The view from my seat in our office all the way to the bedroom.
Charming.
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P.S. To our mothers and fathers who took us in, thank you so much for making the transitions easier. We love and appreciate all that you put up with!
