In Others’ Words: Finding Home

The ache for home. Angelou. 2014

 

I travel some — to writers conferences, mostly.

And I enjoy the chance to be with people who “get” me. People who can have entire conversations about imaginary people. Yeah, we do that.

But this is inevitable: Even as I pack my bags for the trip, anticipating the workshops and the almost nonstop conversations and the hugs and the late nights and early mornings and the God moments waiting for me wherever I’m going — I find myself missing home.

And I haven’t even left yet.

I love home.

No, I treasure home.

And when I finally get back home — walk in the door and release that little exhale that my heart’s been holding all the time I’ve been gone — I whisper, “I’m home.”

And it’s good.

Home is where I’m the most me. And home is also where my family knows they are welcome. All the time. 

There are no locked doors, no “time’s up!” announcements for family. Home is home all the time … any time … forever and ever, amen. It’s memories and the promise of the future … and whatever you need right now this minute.

In Your Words: How would you finish this sentence: Home is_________________. 

 

 

 

0 I like this!
Be Sociable, Share!

Related Posts

In Others’ Words: The Reality of Dreams

In Others’ Words: The Reality of Dreams

In Others’ Words: The Practice and Purpose of Journaling

In Others’ Words: The Practice and Purpose of Journaling

In Others’ Words: The Beautiful, Terrible Truth

In Others’ Words: The Beautiful, Terrible Truth

9 Comments

  1. September 19, 2014, 12:35 am   /  Reply

    Home is where I happen to be.

    It’s more a matter of attitude than anything else. In the currency of Ms. Angelou’s vision, I feel that I can be anywhere at all and feel safe that I can be as I am, and no one will question me.

    Because no one had better dare question me. Crossing me is kind of a stupid thing to do.

    It’s entertaining, at times. I’m perfectly happy going to an engineering conference and giving a formal presentation wearing short, a t-shirt, and flip-flops. If anyone looks askance, it’s their issue, and not mine, because I can back up what I appear to be with the hard competence of what I am.

    And when I walk through the Pearly Gates, I’m going in with head high, like I already own the joint.

    Because I do.

  2. September 19, 2014, 6:45 am   /  Reply

    I’m still working on answering that question. For me sometimes it is absolutely gorgeous meaningful places on this planet. Israel is one of them and I’m happy to be going there again Oct. 1. Sometimes it’s also people, and , of course, the precious faithful presence of our Lord.

    • September 21, 2014, 8:21 am   /  Reply

      All of those answers are significant, Dee … and how wonderful that more than one place is home for you.

  3. September 19, 2014, 7:54 am   /  Reply

    Home is where I am this very minute…on my deck, listening to the birds sing with Suzy in my lap and Bryan not far away, my Bible and Jesus Calling on the table; it’s where my children can wind down…but they have their own home, too.

    • September 21, 2014, 8:23 am   /  Reply

      Pat: Again, home can be more than one place — but I guess then we are saying home is an extension of the people we know and love and trust the best.

  4. Connie Brown
    September 19, 2014, 7:57 am   /  Reply

    I’ve always heard that home is where the heart is, but that home is now gone. My parents have gone to Heaven and the home place has burned. All that I knew as home is gone. Home now is where I live in my little house with my cat. Home is a feeling of belonging and comfort. I’ve lived in several places and when I got back to the place I was living at the time that was home. The place that was home is in my mind and heart so yes, home is where the heart is.

    • September 21, 2014, 8:24 am   /  Reply

      Connie,
      I am so sorry you home burned–and I am sorry you miss your parents.
      And yes, you beautifully illustrate that home is where the heart is.

  5. September 19, 2014, 9:22 am   /  Reply

    Interestingly, the town and place I live now are technically home…but they don’t always feel it. I really have no attachment to the city I’m living in now and often find myself antsy for my next “home.” But my mom and dad’s house…that’ll always be home. So I think for me, to finish that sentence, home is family and friends. 🙂 Well, and I will admit, while I don’t miss Des Moines when I’m away, I do sometimes miss my own bed.

    • September 21, 2014, 8:24 am   /  Reply

      Home = family and friends … and friends who become family.
      Yes.
      🙂

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

*