This morning I had a longing in the crisp, cold air for a place I once called home. I went outside to a world of white, wrapped my robe tight, and rooted myself. A smile began to land. I breathed deep, allowing the crisp wind to sting my lungs. I meandered to a place in a cold rocking chair and sat until my fingers went numb. While I sat, I closed my eyes and allowed the stillness to fall and memories to float by.
Then, I remembered.
My home is not here; it is in eternity.
My home is not in 4 walls or in a street address. It is not a place I can find on Google maps.
My home is not where pain persists and earthly love fails.
My home is a sigh that it is finished. The hard work finally done.
My home is a place where I abide with my King forever. Forever. What a place of rest it will be.
My home is where I will be welcomed by the ones I will have painfully said good bye to.
My home is in the shelter of the Most High, under His wings, held fast.
And goodness, my home will forever be when they smile. My home is in their precious laughter that halts all frowns. It is when we lock eyes and the knowing is there, wading forever under the surface. It is us that face this world together.
My home is forever wrapped up in 3 tiny hearts, and it is eternally found in the arms of the God who can carry us all until we finally land.
“For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come.”