The house is lovely and welcoming, reminiscent of Williamsburg decorated with rich warm colors.  It sits on a small hill with a large front porch, circular driveway, surrounded by pine trees.  Red geraniums punctuate the porch with Southern charm.  This house is picture-perfect and, in fact, the herb garden and kitchen were featured years ago in "Better Homes and Gardens."  

This house belongs to my parents and for years it has been my place to come home to for family gatherings.  That it is being sold is breaking my heart.  As much as I know and my parents and sisters know that this is the right decision for my eighty-something parents, I cannot imagine not having this house to come home to.  I cannot imagine no longer having coffee in the kitchen, sitting at the dining room table for Thanksgiving, having a glass of wine on the screened porch or swimming in the pool.  While this is not the house I grew up in, it is the house I have come home to as an adult; during my divorce and the sad years that followed; for birthdays and holidays, to be loved and treasured as a daughter.

For weeks I have been looking for God's grace in all of this.  Like the woman in scripture who loses her treasured coin and searches for it relentlessly, I've been searching for grace in the selling of my parent's home.  Loss and sadness is all I've found.  That is until the first night my parents spent in their new apartment at the retirement home.  I called the next morning and asked how they were doing.  My mother said it was the most peaceful restful night's sleep she has had in years.  And there it was.  The grace of my parents being at peace, no longer worrying about a house that is too big for them, too burdensome to care for properly.  This hidden grace of God at work in the lives of my aging parents is such a blessing to me.  Grace abounds in knowing that they are sleeping well, have meals prepared for them, and are in the company of newly found friends.  As the saying goes, "home is where the heart is" and home will always be with my parents wherever they are.