I laid in bed this morning and stared at the ceiling and thought about how far away my kids are. San Diego, North Carolina, Missouri, Guatemala.
It feels like little pieces of me all over the world.
The empty bedroom across the hall is dark. The faded laughter of boys and video games echo off the bare walls, reminding me that life's noisy chapters are followed by quiet ones. But my husband still walks up the driveway every day after work carrying his lunchbox, looking tired and glad to be home. And we have days and weeks stretched out ahead of us that will be filled with new adventures. The empty bedroom won't be empty for long. We're all arguing about what it will be: an office, a music room, a guest room, a man cave. And whatever it will be is just fine with me.
Because God always finds use for empty rooms.