I’ve been waiting a long time to say that the Hasz family has finally come home. Matter of fact, I think I’ve honestly been waiting for some sort of a culmination. A mix of the “fire by night,” the “cloud by day,” and the promises of jobs, babies and peace to all align.
Ever since we left our very first townhome that we owned in Colorado in 2012 so that David could return to school, we’ve landed in rental situations and living situations with dear family members several times in this journey. We’ve gone through five rounds of IVF plus miscarriages not to mention high risk pregnancies and births. Abby has had four winters, and Micah is running his way through his second summer since I last felt grounded. Planted. Rooted.
It’s been 5+ years since I’ve given myself permission to unpack the boxes that were awaiting a final destination. And now the cardboard is finally piling up. Empty boxes. Lingering in the garage as we slowly giveaway, recycle and repurpose.
I’ve come home.
And I weep.
And, no, there isn’t a pot of gold in this 1200 sq. ft. we now own, and all my heart/life problems weren’t magically solved. But, we have the space to learn to be a family of four again in an entirely new season. To budget and save and work hard and sleep deeply and wake early and stay up late watching Netflix and dreaming together.
That’s better than any pot of gold.
Already, I’ve had opportunities to give back to other families. To other women. To open my home even in these short two weeks as a haven to others.
Maybe my words speak to your heart in some way. Maybe you don’t aspire to plant yourself in a home or maybe you are planted and there are other yearnings that keep you restless. Either way, I find that we all crave that PLACE with those PEOPLE that imparts the emotional space to make plans and dream again. Perhaps in all my wandering I’ve realized that there are very few “easy” seasons. And it is only in a very few countries of the world where this would even be an expectation. We are blessed.
But we all look for home. In our own ways and with our own dreams attached to that elusive term.
Perhaps the second thing I learned during the past years is that finding your people and holding them tight can’t be prioritized enough. During the past five years, I’ve left teaching, owned my own birth doula business Anointed Beginnings, become the practice manager of a local birth center, left everything to stay home with my Littles, and now run three businesses from my living room. Many aspects of those jobs were not all they were cracked up to be. But my people were. My extended family that rallied around us to help keep our family afloat during a nearly impossible financial season. My husband who has cheered on my aspirations and listened to my doubts. My children who are miracles surrounding me. My friends who have become soul sisters through this length of this journey. And the amazing thing…some of these women I’ve never even met face to face.
That’s the power I’ve learned in the past 5+ years. The power of vulnerability. Transparency. Friendship. Motherhood. Sisterhood.
I wouldn’t wish “wandering” on anyone, but I will never look at home and roots in the same light. These things are precious, folks. PRECIOUS.
So welcome home, friend. I pray that as I learn again and share again and dream again and write again that you will also find a place here that speaks to your heart and ensconces you in warmth and support. Being the “village” is not just a catch phrase. It’s a real thing that has kept me afloat these past years. It is hope and life and friends that cheer you on during your darkest, most fearful moments.
Our village is also what allows us to not just put down roots but look longingly up at the sky. To dream, pray, meditate, rejoice, believe, and love. I’m reading an incredible book by the title “Roots & Sky” by Christie Purifoy that I’m sure you will get snippets of along the way, and for now I will leave you with a quote that sinks deep in my soul:
I had arrived at both the beginnings and the end of a journey. I was right to believe that I had come home. I was right to imagine that my dream was being realized in this undreamed place. But I was wrong to think that such a meaningful arrival could ever be accomplished in a moment.
As I relaunch this blog and move forward into the many moments of the coming days and weeks and months, perhaps you too can walk with me into an “undreamed place.”
If you like what you see here, I’m grateful. Share it if you do, please invest elsewhere if you don’t. Either way, please know you are loved and appreciated just for stopping by. As I relaunch and reformat, please check out some of the new pages that have emerged in this past season. And once again, thank you friends for BEING and STAYING the past many years.