I'm Not Playing House-I am Home.

I got married in early July. My husband and I made the trek up to Lake Tahoe to be married in a small, intimate elopement-style setting with just our immediate families. It was truly a dream.

A few weeks before the wedding, we drove a U-Haul full of our belongings from Texas all the way to a small town in Illinois. My husband is originally from the Midwest, where his whole family lives. Grandparents, uncles, siblings, nieces, and more. We both knew we didn't want to stay in the city forever and as we started talking about engagement, marriage, and raising a family, it was clear the fast pace city life wasn't where we were meant to be. So, we packed up and moved.

For now, we’re just renting, but we’re so grateful to be in a sweet community close to family. The first two months of marriage have been full of a lot of things. Adjusting, settling in, finding jobs, figuring out rhythms and routines, and, of course, the sweet bliss of being newlyweds. A few weeks in, I had a moment that stopped me in my tracks. The thought was: I’m not playing house—I’m home.

For years I dreamed of this: getting married, homemaking, having babies, and living a simple life. Ever since I was little, I imagined the day I would have a home to decorate, dishes to wash, clothes to fold—mine, my husband’s, and hopefully our babies’ someday—meals to prepare, and errands to run. The mundane, everyday things most people dread, I always looked forward to. And now, here I am, living it.

I have a little home to decorate. Choosing color schemes, hanging wall art crooked three times until it’s finally right, sweeping the front porch to create a welcoming entrance, and making our bedroom peaceful and cozy are just a few things that have filled my cup. My beloved piano sits in the living room, already played many times and ready to be loved for years to come.

Our kitchen is small but functional, and even without a dishwasher, I don’t mind handwashing dishes when I know I’m living out my dream. Countless meals, and many baked goods, such as cookies, muffins, and sourdough have already come out of this kitchen. Why is this my dream? Because I know this is what I was made for. It’s about the heartfelt service and nurturing nature God has placed in me.

It started when I was a little girl with baby dolls and Barbies, then dollhouses and American Girl dolls. I never played in ways that weren’t realistic. I had a pretend husband, a home, and full names for all my babies. My dollhouses always had laundry rooms and bathrooms because, even in play, I wanted it to feel real. Deep down, I knew it was.

When I grew out of dolls, I poured that same heart into my younger siblings. Bathing them, feeding them, and driving them around. Later in college, I nannied for families. I loved being in their homes, folding laundry, reading books, rocking crying babies, playing make-believe, and even putting bandaids on scraped knees. For the hours spent in these houses, it felt like home. But when I left, I knew it wasn’t truly mine.

The Lord has been preparing me all along. He knows me and understands my heart and longings, because He designed me. I was created to nurture and build a home and family someday. Looking back, I see that those years weren’t just childhood, make-believe, or ‘just a job.’ They were a season of shaping, a comfort in the waiting, and a quiet preparation for the future.

And now, here I am, in my home, as a wife, homemaker, and not yet a mom, but with a heart that’s full. I can surely say now, I’m not playing house anymore- I am home.