Where is home? Is it amongst the calves in their holding pens, with their rough tongues and endless slobber? Is it petting their heads and naming them silly names? Is it riding my bike down the paved road to the sign and back, looking out on green fields, too afraid to venture off the path? Is it up on the rooftop, reading a book, barefoot and free?
Where is home? Is it walking the neighborhood amongst Alabama maples, dogwoods, and azaleas? Is it Edgewood creamery, all sweaty in tank tops and summer shorts?
Where is home? Is it amongst the green of Florida with ferns and palms and Spanish moss? Is it along the St. John's river or beachside as children collect shells?
Where is home? Is it nose against neck, holding his hand in the dark? Is it over candlelight, talking, talking. Is it in his brown eyes?
Where is home? Is it at the dinner table consuming a home-made meal as we practice conversation, teach lessons, sit together? Is it on a picnic blanket with exposed toes and warm bread, cheese, sweet strawberries, and fancy carbonated drinks? Is it in the smell of their hair, the warmth of their cheeks?
Where is home? Is it somewhere else altogether? A place of no worry. Of streets made of gold. Where all will be made right and all will make sense. A place of light and sun and peace. Where joy reigns undisturbed.
Where is home?
And faith is, in the end, a kind of homesickness – for a home we have never visited but have never once stopped longing for. – Philip Yancey, Disappointment with God
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Link up with me over at Lisa-Jo's blog? The prompt is "home" and you are free to write for 5 minutes, unedited....
4 comments:
ahh this was really lovely.. calming! i'm one of your row buddies at FMF.
Amen! Visiting you from FMF I am your neighbor:)
Loved this post. I always enjoy reading your blog. Miss you guys in AL and know you are enjoying your new life in Florida.
Another great post Sis!
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