Giggles & Bibles & Girls.

So I love coming home. No matter if it to someone else's home where I'm staying, or coming home to my own. It could be as result of an hour away, or a week. But there is something special about coming home.

I had my one-liner planned as I drove through the driveway, to summarize my weekend for my roommates, knowing they'd ask and I'd share. And I knew we'd all sit around and divulge our past several days and life and thoughts.

But I didn't expect the beauty of that moment or conversations. That'd I'd walk in and one's boyfriend was helping make salad, and together we'd all sit around the table, the five of us, and eat spinach with goat cheese and roasted chicken and pine nuts and olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and linger over wine. That our discussions would take us from our weekend events, to our perspectives on Biblical suffering, to the role of conflict between men and women, to talks about board games and competition, and life in dating. That "the boyfriend" would laugh and shake his head and join right in with us, sharing his stories and life in the church, but also watching women in glee interact and giggle and share and learn and live as ones who join and care. We taunted and praised him and begged him to stay and come again to share in this women's experience.

All followed by laughter floating from rooms and squeals and giggles and make-up to wear. Guided by more stories and sharing, and hugs and listening.

Or sitting this morning with morning coffee and warm banana bread and fresh thoughts, and rummaging through the feminine role and books and blogs and flights to overseas. Gathered and covered with the glow of sunlight at the table.

I love coming home. But it is a special gift indeed to come home to such a blessing as this.