Day 356 - Home Again

It’s Jan first, and I’m sitting here in my rocker next to the fire with a cup of hot tea listening to “Love Came Down”. It’s good to be back home again. I had a wonderful time at Hilton Head with the family and then with John and Biddie, but it is always god to be home. “Home”, what does that mean? Does it mean in a house? Does it mean to be back in a comfortable place? What does being here, in this place mean to me right now? Why is it I feel comfortable and relaxed here?

I don’t think that I can answer all these questions tonight. I’m not sure that I even know all of the answers. I have always thought that “Home” is where you live. But it’s obviously more than that. After I got married I thought it was where my wife and I lived. That was good, and it got even stronger as the kids came along. I always knew that “home” was where Julia, Jennifer and Lisa were. I flew all over the world. I would be gone for days at a time, but “home” was like a star that I could focus on. I know that going “home” meant that I would be with them, and that was for the most part comforting. Sure, there were stresses and strains, but I knew that when I was home, I was in a safe place.

Then the girls left for school, and “home” became where Julia was. We built a new house, but it became “home” because she made it that way. The girls would come back from school, and they would come “home”. Then they got married and started having kids, and pretty soon, our “home” was just a place that they visited. They were making their own “homes”. That’s as it should be. I still think that they feel comfortable in my “home”, but it no longer is my home.

Well, last year when Julia went “home” to heaven, which left just me in the house. Is it still “home”? I think so, it feels safe and comfortable, like an old pair of shoes. But what makes it “home”? I think that what makes it home now are memories and everything that hasn’t changed since Julia left. So if that is what makes it “home”, what happens when I repaint, or buy new furniture. I mean if I stayed here for a long time I would surly have to make some changes. The old saying “Home is where the heart is” is partially correct. If you have loved ones that live with you, then where you live becomes your home.

But I don’t fit into that category anymore. Home for me could be anywhere. It truly is just where I live. I’ll enjoy being here because it’s comfortable, but I won’t live here forever, and I have to realize that wherever I am, it really is home. I think that home for me will be where I feel that God wants me to be. Right now it is right here.

I think I answered my question a minute ago without realizing it. I said that Julia was “home” in heaven. For me, and you, if you are a believer that is truly our home. That is where we will be at true peace and where everything will fit. Until then, we are like nomads in a sense. We truly are aliens in a strange land. We make our resting place as comfortable as we can, and call it home. But it’s not. Julia’s truly home. Me, I’m still here, doing the best I can to make myself feel like I’m home. And tonight, sitting by the fire, I really do feel like I am home.