All day long today, I had this empty feeling in my chest. When trying to place my finger on just what I was feeling, the most adequate description I could come up with was a feeling of being homesick.
I’m homesick for a home I don’t know that I have. And that makes me incredibly sad.
I miss El Paso and the feeling of being at home I had there. I miss my friends there and the community I had. But, even then that wasn’t truly my home.
The longer we’re in the Army the more I long for a home of my own, for roots and for a {more} permanent belonging.
Thinking of and longing for home makes me wonder exactly what that means.
What does home mean to me and why do I long for it deep within my soul?
Home is the sense of belonging that I long for.
The location of our home will change from Army assignment to Army assignment and life changes after that, but home will never change.
Home is where I live with the ones that I love the most. Home is where I sit and talk with Keith. Home is reading books with my children on the couch or my bed…maybe even theirs.
Home is sipping on a hot cup of coffee with my Bible and journal nearby.
Home is comfort and peace.
Home is a candle burning in the kitchen.
Home is dinner in the “magic crock pot”.
Home is my cluttered desk, a blog post half-written and a scrapbook page in process.
Home is being among accepting friends. Home is neighbors gathered around.
Home has been South Carolina, Kentucky, Germany, Virginia, Texas and now it’s Kansas.
Home is educating my children around the dining room table.
Home is quiet reading in the evenings with Keith sitting across from me after the kids are all tucked in bed.
Home is church, sharing a common faith, fellowship, worshiping together.
Home is wrapped up in warm blankets in the winter.
Home is open windows letting in the sunshine to brighten everything.
Home is being together always.
Home is love unconditional freely given and received.
Home is knowing that at the end of the day, I am loved and accepted. Home is loving and accepting those residing under the same roof as I.
Home is forgiveness extended and grace freely given.
Home is the freedom to fail and knowing that in their eyes, I will always succeed.
This list makes me realize that I have the home that I long for, the home that I’m sick for is already in my possession…I just don’t always realize that my home is right here where my people are.
What is home to you?