"HOME" - en Espanol es "hogar" -- it is a word I pondered greatly this past week while we were in the United States for a short visit.
As most of you know, John and I have lived in many different places. And "home" is difficult to pin down. Usually I say "most recently from" and "currently in" when referencing a geographic location. To some this is probably quite strange. It seems we all define "home" from a very unique perspective.
Some might say -- "home is where you grew up"
If you ask each of our sons where they call the place they grew up, they'd probably each give different answers.
Many of my family and friends know Escanaba as home. It is where I grew up and where my roots are. And, it is so comforting and familiar to be around people and places with memories so close to my heart. But, I can't really think of it as "home" now.
John, too, refers to being from "straight outta Compton" (50+ years ago)!
Some might say -- "home is where you raise your kids"
I recall fondly each of the cities where our sons were born (yes, all four were born in different cities) and the houses we've lived in over the years. Each was "home" for a period of time with distinctive connections to feelings and senses, likes and dislikes, amenities, neighbors, churches and friends.
Interestingly, I really can't say I have a favorite. Each house became "home." And our church and work friends became family since our blood relative families were miles away.
But, I think I would say -- "home is a feeling"
It isn't a place, it isn't a house, it isn't always even about family. Home is your routine, your comfort zone, where you are connected to a purpose. And it seems our roles changes over time -- from singles to marrieds, from parents to empty nesters, from birthday suits to business suits to something in-between. But our purpose, when defined by our heavenly Father, helps in grounding us to serving others wherever home may be.
We had a wonderful week in the States - time with family, comfort foods, time for work and relaxation, and re-connection with familiar things. The cabin in Georgia is not our "home" at this moment -- but it is my happy place. And, after concluding meetings and getting through TSA with my carry-on FULL of chocolates (my guilty pleasures), I reflected on a satisfying trip.
Yet I was caught a bit off guard at the realization on the airplane ride as we flew from Atlanta to Honduras, when John leaned over and asked me "Are you ready to go home?" And, I was.
John 14:2 -- My Father's house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?
P.S. My friend Vikki once gave me a little plaque that was a play on the above verse. It says "in my Father's house are many mansions, I hope mine is next to yours." I love this! I hope we ALL live on the same block.
As most of you know, John and I have lived in many different places. And "home" is difficult to pin down. Usually I say "most recently from" and "currently in" when referencing a geographic location. To some this is probably quite strange. It seems we all define "home" from a very unique perspective.
Some might say -- "home is where you grew up"
If you ask each of our sons where they call the place they grew up, they'd probably each give different answers.
Many of my family and friends know Escanaba as home. It is where I grew up and where my roots are. And, it is so comforting and familiar to be around people and places with memories so close to my heart. But, I can't really think of it as "home" now.
John, too, refers to being from "straight outta Compton" (50+ years ago)!
Some might say -- "home is where you raise your kids"
I recall fondly each of the cities where our sons were born (yes, all four were born in different cities) and the houses we've lived in over the years. Each was "home" for a period of time with distinctive connections to feelings and senses, likes and dislikes, amenities, neighbors, churches and friends.
Interestingly, I really can't say I have a favorite. Each house became "home." And our church and work friends became family since our blood relative families were miles away.
But, I think I would say -- "home is a feeling"
It isn't a place, it isn't a house, it isn't always even about family. Home is your routine, your comfort zone, where you are connected to a purpose. And it seems our roles changes over time -- from singles to marrieds, from parents to empty nesters, from birthday suits to business suits to something in-between. But our purpose, when defined by our heavenly Father, helps in grounding us to serving others wherever home may be.
We had a wonderful week in the States - time with family, comfort foods, time for work and relaxation, and re-connection with familiar things. The cabin in Georgia is not our "home" at this moment -- but it is my happy place. And, after concluding meetings and getting through TSA with my carry-on FULL of chocolates (my guilty pleasures), I reflected on a satisfying trip.
Yet I was caught a bit off guard at the realization on the airplane ride as we flew from Atlanta to Honduras, when John leaned over and asked me "Are you ready to go home?" And, I was.
John 14:2 -- My Father's house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?
P.S. My friend Vikki once gave me a little plaque that was a play on the above verse. It says "in my Father's house are many mansions, I hope mine is next to yours." I love this! I hope we ALL live on the same block.
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