Longing For Home

Home. It is more than location.

I'm thinking of home these days past, wondering where it really is. 

Home is where my family is. My Dear Man, who is so dedicated to all of us. My Girl, who is now becoming a young woman with independent thoughts and maturing outlooks. Little Man, not so little, but still unaware of so much. And Brown Eyed Boy, whose charming nose crinkles make my heart glow.

Not just them, though. 

My parents, far, far away. Wherever they are is also home. In their familiar presence, with their familiar love.

My sisters, my brother. They, also, make home for me. Memories come when I'm with them more than when I'm in a specific place.

Home is where I share history with those around me. Friends. Neighbours. Brothers and sisters in Christ. Those who know me and love me anyway. Those whose presence makes me smile. Those who will embrace me when I need it, and not just when I ask for it. With those ones, too, is home.

A nomadic upbringing, never living more than five years in one location, having seven homes in four different provinces by the time I was 18. And another eight homes in the first 12 years of my marriage. Is it any wonder that 'home' isn't a place?

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When I think of 'home', I think of this line from Steve Bell's song "Home" on his "Simple Songs" album.

"Home is anywhere He leads me."

 It's true. Anywhere with Jesus is home for me. And if I'm where He is leading me, there's no better place to be. 

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You can listen to a short sample of that song. Click the link, scroll down, and click the play arrow beside "Home".