Home

 

Searching for home...

It's what I'm constantly doing.

Because home moves or is changeable;

Depending on our life's decisions and plans.

So it means home is with my people and furnishings...

In that particular abode.

Home has been my lake house, my sailboat, my parent's house.

But only in moments with people I love.

Because home isn't home when I'm alone in a dwelling.

Or is it?

Peace and security is home and being alone is...

Those things by turns.

Home is two recliners, warm towels and a good bed.

It's where you groom, relax, and be your toe picking self.

Your favorite genre of music, books, and artwork is on display

In your home.

There are no worries if anyone else likes your choices;

They will because they live there too; they are your blood.

You can laugh at odd jokes and cry at shared memories

At home.

Things like forgiveness and patience and forbearance

Are practiced because of burps and loud chewing and other

Human noises and disruptions.

Grace upon grace upon grace.

Home is a longing, a blanket of comfort

When life gives too much ouch in its bite.

Soothing rest for weary souls...

Healing balm for ragged hearts...

Quiet stillness for thinking hard thoughts...

Fighting words {prayer} for reviving the Spirit.