The Parents are Coming, The Parents Are Coming!

...shouted Paul Revere in my apartment this morning. Figuratively of course.

It is true. My parents are coming. In just six short hours, give or take flight delays, we will pick them up from the Denver International Airport.

The first parental visit to our new place. An occassion such as this calls for me to set aside all sassiness and dig deep into the reservoirs of domestic diligence. So this morning a full force assault was launched against dirt, dust, and other such griminess that has accumulated in our first three months of life in our new apartment.

Four loads of laundry, countless squirts of Windex, one boxed caked mix, and four hours later, our home is officially ready for the arrival of our special guests. If only the scent of baking chocolate would linger for a few more hours.

In the midst of the challenge of establishing ourselves in a place miles from most of our loved ones, the passing presence of a guest provides warmth, familiarity. While hospitality may not be one of my most strongly presenting spiritual gifts, I am discovering the thrill of making a guest bed and anticipating someone's arrival. Especially when, for the first time in my independent life, the apartment I inhabit feels like a home.

We can't wait to show off our places of work, the wedding gifts we've found ways to use, our knowledge of the Denver area, the beauty of the mountains, the warmer weather than North Dakota, and the way we've been able to create a life here for ourselves.

As we entertain and feed, laugh and converse, I hope the warmth of company will settle in to the cracks in our walls and absorb into the carpet. So that as we spend weeks on our own, Trey and I might be reminded of the circle of love that enfolds us, even when friends and family are far away.