Home.
There's no other word that stirs up the maelstrom of emotions like that one word does.
Home.
It's more than your own bed, your own food, your own shower and bathroom(!).
Home.
It's the reason I hated it every Christmas when people wanted to sing "I'll Be Home for Christmas" when we were in LML.
Home.
Tears come to my eyes as the customs agent says, "Welcome home!" when we re-enter the U.S. after traveling abroad.
Home.
I have a very nice house. It's well-equipped. But what makes it really "home" is when all the "kids" come for a visit. I like having my children around me, but more and more, it's becoming "my being around them", as they go to far off places to live with their families.
Home.
"This place is not my home, I'm just a traveling through..." maybe that's my problem. I long for Home. And I keep trying to make my house a home. But I still have that longing for something in my past or future (!). I want to go home to something I can't quite grasp. I miss home,whatever that is. It's where you're loved and cared for, affirmed and encouraged. Embraced and kissed.
Home.
"Welcome home!" What sweet sounding words! <sigh>
Home.
"I go to prepare a place for you. If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, you may be also." Amen.
