Home is Where the Tacos Are

by - August 08, 2018




I never imagined that at my age I would own a home. In fact, while we discussed looking for homes around the second year that we lived in our old apartment, we didn’t expect to actually find a home in a matter of months. The home-buying process was such a blessing and also a complete whirlwind where I think we both had to stop for a moment and say to each other, “is this for real?”

Not many people our age have homes, so we also realize how much of a blessing it is to even own a place. We are incredibly thankful for it and for God's hand through the entire process.

I think what I have looked forward to the most about being a homeowner is being able to make our space ours. Sure, we could do that with an apartment, but it’s much more challenging when it’s not yours. Having a home gives us the freedom to change the landscape, add or remove as we please and expand our family, one day knowing that we have the space.

One of the first things we cooked for dinner in this space was tacos.

Tacos are right next to words of affirmation on my list of love languages. I wholeheartedly believe that I could eat tacos everyday and never get sick of them, so as much as I love tacos, it’s probably not a surprise that our first meal together in our new home consisted of that.

It’s one of my favorite things to eat and it’s something I’ve perfected over the years because it’s so easy to make. When I’m really feeling fancy, I add garlic and caramelized onions to the mix, but I digress.



What’s more important than the food are the moments and laughs shared around it. It’s the inside jokes shared between us or the moments of prayer we have.

It’s trying to keep Reese off the counter because now that we have an island, she thinks it’s she’s invited to eat at the table, too.

It’s the little things.

It's the in the little things that make a home feel like home.

Truthfully, our old apartment felt a lot like home to us because it was our first place together. It was the first place we lived in after marriage and the place the held so many joyous and sad memories for us. What made it home was not the side of it, but it was inside of it. The same sentiment goes for our home, which is definitely bigger than our old apartment.

It's in the memories we create and the laughter we share.

It's in the get-togethers with friends and family.

It's in the little inside jokes.

It's in the little and big prayers.

As cliche as it sounds, home is where the heart is.

I am convinced that home is not just where we lay our heads, but it’s where we fill our bellies with laughter, joy, and tacos. Lots of tacos.

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