If these floors could talk...

They would tell of a tiny tot who remembers no other house than this one, who first ran and played and danced to the Dora theme song here when she was only two years old...

And of a boy, filled with wide eyed wonder at first sight of the toys and games and DVDs and adventure his new home held...

They would share the delight of witnessing a mild mannered, good natured, light hearted boy transform from babyhood into a capable, smart, strapping young man...

And the joy of seeing a baby girl's first time crawling, then slowly taking timid steps before stumbling, toppling over and over, until she finally gained her footing, and took off running...

They would reminisce about treasured family movie nights, of bowls of popcorn spilled, of hours on end of Little House on the Prairie episodes, of interruptions and pressing pause too many times to count, of Disney and princesses and pirates and Barbies and animated stories and documentaries filling the screen...

And the first of three children, newly born, brought from the hospital to be cherished and cradled and rocked inside these walls, who have never called another place home...

They would recall periods of struggle, buried in fatigue and overwhelm and guilt and doubt and trial, when tension and strain ruled and we wondered how we would ever get through...

They would talk of a girl, painstakingly learning what it means to find her place here, among a world of unfamiliarity, to slowly grow in confidence, carving out a sense of belonging as she goes...

And of a couple, working, working, working to raise an ever expanding family, to remain closely knit, to always stay rooted in love, to see the best in one another, to overlook a fault, to forgive freely, to soften rough edges, to cleave to what is good...

They would tell about a selfless man, who has shown himself willing and capable in the lofty task of raising the children of other men as his own, one who has committed his entire being and given all that he has to ensure the care of his beloved people...

And about a boy, overflowing with affection and bounding with energy, literally jumping his way through his days...

They would share of songs sang, milestones reached, thresholds crossed, tears shed, books read, prayers of gratitude and grief and longing cried out, of boundaries breached and transgressions pardoned...

And of sickness and health, of healing and laughter, and joy and grace and desperately needed fresh mercy emerging with a new day's dawn...

They would utter the sounds of all it means to grow old together as the years pass by, to abide in faithfulness - come what may - to live a surprising life day by day that looks nothing like the one we imagined when we were young...

The would speak of the frail and overcoming and maintaining nature of  every day humanity spilling out all over the place. They would tell of messy, flawed, tarnished, beautiful, breathtaking, forever, love lived out here, on these floors...

*New carpet is being installed today. After we ripped out the old last night, we decorated the floor. :)