Homeless, so We're Living with the Shaffers

I love my in laws. For anyone to welcome our madness and to put their home/schedules not to mention having their furniture arranged in an airport fashion with couches back to back, because of storing our stuff, but making functional use of it while we are awaiting our flight to our new home destination. Papa, Shafe, is always going and cleaning. Check out the rims on our van this week for proof.He loves to joke around with his grandkids, just to see them smile and laugh with them. Nanna, who likes to sleep in, let's my kids come and crawl into her bed at 7:30 in the morning to watch cartoons with her, quality time with Nanna. She loves to read and I could get lost in her library, losing myself in her borrowed books.She is always making references to their service at the jail and has prompted the question/answer of:
 how is a prison like a temple?  
They're both places of hope and redemption, places of service and learning. I never thought that a prison could be considered a "Holy" place, but in hearing about their mission there and the stories of their branch President comparing the angel that visited Alma the younger and the sons of Mosiah to the angels who wore badges and carry guns who came to get theses sisters and take them to jail, as well as the stories of the sisters who find hope in the Gospel message of repentance and forgiveness.
I have learned to focus on what I can do while I am living here, always getting a "thank you" when I do the dishes, although I never am as effective as Shafe when it comes to loading the dishwasher to  ultimate full capacity and still get all the dishes clean.