Home sweet home
Where is home? Really?
What comes to mind when you hear the word 'home'? Do you get a warm fuzzy feeling? A feeling of security, peace, nostalgia maybe?
I honestly cannot imagine not having that safe place. That place that evokes those wonderful emotions. For a lot of people, that place is where you live with your family. But life is messed up, and for some people, family does not bring those feelings. Not biological family anyway.
For me, home is where God placed me. I've heard a story of a man who boarded a flight and he said a quick prayer as the plane took off, "Lord, take me home safely." And he heard almost immediately, "Which home?"
I would like to feel at home where He wants me to feel at home. Some feel at home in a house with their family, others feel at home in a club with strangers. I realize that no matter how much I try to, I can't actually feel at home in this world anymore.
'This world is not my home, I'm just passing through.'
‘This world is not my home, I’m just passing through.'
It’s both a sobering and joyful feeling- to be liberated from the cares of the world, from trying constantly to fit in, to belong, to compete; to knowing that you just don’t belong, because you are a different breed, placed here for a special purpose.
It’s sobering because we spend most of our lives chasing fickle things, it’s difficult to recognize that perhaps they’re not all that matter. I still struggle with that, but experiences and life makes it clear- you feel so unfulfilled, even in the midst of so much activity because that’s just it: it’s not your home.
So where is home? I’ll let you answer that.
No matter how far from home you go, you’ll find your way back. I’m certain of it.
I've found mine. For me, home is Christ.
This story is in response to Jason Edmunds’ October whispers prompt: 'Home Sweet Home.'
