Staff Post by Lori Potter

My Dream Home<br /><br />I grew up in a small 70's ranch. I'm sure you've all seen them. A basic rectangle with a center front door and a picture window on one side and several bedroom windows on the other side. My sister and I shared a room and we all shared a single bathroom. I remember many fights and screaming matches that always ended in tears. I also remember sitting up way past bedtime sharing dreams and secrets with my sister. She was my playmate, conspirator, fellow dreamer, and best friend. I remember dreaming of living in one of those large houses where every child has their own room. Especially their own bathroom.<br /><br />I went on to college and internships. I started working for <a href="http://www.visbeen.biz/">Visbeen Associates, Inc.</a> in 2000 One of the benefits and downfalls of my job is that you are constantly "building your dream home" in your mind. At that time I was engaged and dreaming up the house I would like to raise our future children in. I dreamed of a large home with a bedroom for each child, at least three bathrooms, plenty of room (out of sight) for their toys, an office for myself where I could work from home while they quietly played. Similar to these plans -<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75ZXKdyJmYY4NSB-DA3A6IYItfxOtNTHBzUqxgfJR6yT5Au55eZbpOGLkbryuUR23vpBBs5pGeh79suECbVt_MlC8il-l2BI77CZAvq8JVi0W-ojq256cZJHvpwj_NK7aHYaCHNdhbsue/s1600/1PV.1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673386587740583890" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75ZXKdyJmYY4NSB-DA3A6IYItfxOtNTHBzUqxgfJR6yT5Au55eZbpOGLkbryuUR23vpBBs5pGeh79suECbVt_MlC8il-l2BI77CZAvq8JVi0W-ojq256cZJHvpwj_NK7aHYaCHNdhbsue/s320/1PV.1.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin-sJ2XfYxALlXPAYJ0QfTc-kIKvLefc963fv24nlZU0Gpn9SOV_wz-Ex3UhYsXvoB_2j6IMtJU8RBFSv1S4bSd6FID50UVpJVSFrwJMA4yw-h4R2QCEPKja82AMAV_2l0zBUxjmjHg3uw/s1600/2PV.1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673386578963169698" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin-sJ2XfYxALlXPAYJ0QfTc-kIKvLefc963fv24nlZU0Gpn9SOV_wz-Ex3UhYsXvoB_2j6IMtJU8RBFSv1S4bSd6FID50UVpJVSFrwJMA4yw-h4R2QCEPKja82AMAV_2l0zBUxjmjHg3uw/s320/2PV.1.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcOVsoWQdKmBNt0CcqAj8ogzOLdlO2QPzhXAvGWemJmbf1HSZDV78xVXqtyYZz7V2n_igAXt9DkV8-Kfa9OOBDvNMH4O5oX9fnLmkCFdvufwLdswIBe9KmWqvrs9_qHU5Voo9_iWpQeERz/s1600/3PV.1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673386572115688722" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcOVsoWQdKmBNt0CcqAj8ogzOLdlO2QPzhXAvGWemJmbf1HSZDV78xVXqtyYZz7V2n_igAXt9DkV8-Kfa9OOBDvNMH4O5oX9fnLmkCFdvufwLdswIBe9KmWqvrs9_qHU5Voo9_iWpQeERz/s320/3PV.1.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" /></a><br />During the last eleven years, I have gotten married, had several children, and lost several loved ones. My values have changed dramatically. I want to be a presence in my children's lives not just present. I want to hear them playing, laughing, telling secrets, and sometimes fighting. I want to trip over the toys at three am when I am walking them back to bed. I want them to learn to be courteous, forgiving, loving, and God fearing. I want to know without a doubt that whatever life throws at them, their family and faith will always be there. They don't need their own bedroom or bathroom. They need a roof over their head and a pillow underneath it. More square footage doesn't make a better house. It is the quality of that square footage that makes a home. Now my dream home looks more like this -<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgte3O56gbwmI9taeNXtfwWBZHixDzSXmio2ggx2UjC048hO8SgvttxD4B-1K4n1S88P0BjmU4c9IUlnt8coqhsSqY8MxNLc7S20lVg4qleowcLuYULHb36e9Qgd_na5J0t8bsnbWCOW4Oh/s1600/4PV.1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673386563720390226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgte3O56gbwmI9taeNXtfwWBZHixDzSXmio2ggx2UjC048hO8SgvttxD4B-1K4n1S88P0BjmU4c9IUlnt8coqhsSqY8MxNLc7S20lVg4qleowcLuYULHb36e9Qgd_na5J0t8bsnbWCOW4Oh/s320/4PV.1.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIdLQUKLjSzXwy8JOJTy090PM-wyNAfNUFtPH3hwLnDb7sSlVp34W_BznVr8q9YmdAKkBlSydnyfB9rRjIW979lTtKNzLTEATZ0ROEzpsLg3whqUX5qdqVXLAX2jOeE-mvG_aGLx6B0KoX/s1600/5PV.1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673386561863426114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIdLQUKLjSzXwy8JOJTy090PM-wyNAfNUFtPH3hwLnDb7sSlVp34W_BznVr8q9YmdAKkBlSydnyfB9rRjIW979lTtKNzLTEATZ0ROEzpsLg3whqUX5qdqVXLAX2jOeE-mvG_aGLx6B0KoX/s320/5PV.1.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" /></a><br />I wonder what my dream home will look like in another 10 years.

Staff Post by Lori Potter

My Dream Home I grew up in a small 70's ranch. I'm sure you've all seen them. A basic rectangle with a center front door and a p...

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