This small 10 X 12 bedroom has a rich 28-year history in my home. I can chronicle its colors by looking at spots inside the closet that I missed when painting. A nursery turned into a bedroom. Floors once covered in carpets, now have warm colored wooden boards. It has housed party guests and been a respite for women who have needed a place to live for a while. Now it is empty. I selfishly grieve that the years with little children living home are over. I walk around in it like a ghost from Christmas past. So, to battle this kind of thinking, I will set my mind on something creative. I will transform this space once again, but into a new place. My place. Somewhere to pray, work, write, read, goal set, create, journal, meditate, listen to music, or anything I want. I get an uneasy feeling putting my needs first. But there is a time to give and a time to receive. There is hope growing in my heart as I anticipate the next phase for this room. My Room. First I need to give My Room a name. Will you offer me some suggestions?