There is no place like home. There is no place like home. There is no place like home.
I don’t usually write unless my thoughts are well organized. I wont even begin unless I have a plan. Not this time. My thoughts seem cluttered and are far from organized. I have been back in the states for a couple of months but feel like I have not processed much, in that time. I forgot how busy life was in the states. Nobody stops. Even when we are forced to sit, like in a car, we will use that time to get more things accomplished. We use that time to catch up with an old friend on the phone, eat or finish getting ready for the day. There is always more to be done. This busyness is a whirlwind. I got caught into it so fast that when I took one second to breath I saw my bible and journal in the back of it all, collecting dust. A day well spent, for me, is a day spent in the word of God and one where you love on people, with His love. How quickly that can change to it only being a good day when muliple items are crossed off the to-do list. Productivity was replacing my time with the sweet presence of our God.
Its strange to be back. To feel like you are the foreigner in your own land. I tried to jump right back in where I left off but the truth is I am not the same person. We left at Christmas time and returned at that exact hour. The same Christmas tree I left was standing awaiting my return. I can not explain this backwards time warp that it feels like I have walked through. The things I expereniced while overseas were real and tangible. When I tell them state side they seem fake even to me.
I think the hardest question that I continue to get asked is, Where is home? I gave up answering that question a long time ago. My answer became simply, I do not know. The next time you get asked that on an airplane, by a stranger, try my line out and see the obscured looks you get for the entire flight. Who doesn’t know where home is? Don’t get me wrong I have family and friends all over who have always said, “Mi casa is Su casa”. I have shelter to go to and stay as long as I need. Shelter is not the problem. Home is where I belong but I didn’t know where that was.
I could not have asked for a better welcome back gretting. Unexpectly, my family flew from all over to greet me at the LAX airport. I have never felt so loved….so deeply missed. It was a moment i will never forget. It was good to be back in the arms of the ones i had left for a year. Tears flowed down my face as I held my 6 month newphew for the first time. Hear me out when i say time spent with family has been sweet and rich but still nothing could seem to fill this void of the question that i could not answer, where is home?
I guess home is different for everyone. Home could be the house you grew up in. To me it is just that, it is a house. A home seems to have so much more meaning and depth then a building. Is a place? a destination? or could it be a person? I find it to be true that when people return from vacation they usually open the door and with much relief in their voice say, ” it is good to be home”. That releif goes beyond the walls that surround them. It is something deeper that leads their hearts to peace.
I sat down to read the word the other day and I asked the Lord to saturate me with His words and His presence. As i read, my soul quickly made a huge sigh of relief and said,” it is good to be home”. Jesus is my home. He is where i belong. It is clear that this earth is temporary. ” Dear friends, i urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world…” 1 Peter 2:11. We have been warned to not get too comfortable; this land is not our home. It all made sense. I am supporse to feel like a foreigner here because my home is far way. I am thankful though, that my home has arms that reach out to me daily.
My heart is captivated by the Parable of the Prodigal Son story, in the bible. A story about the power of God’s love and his power to redeem all. You know the story; the son runs away and the Father waits expectingly for his return. When he returned, his fathers arms were outstrechted waiting to embrace his son. As his son hugged his dad tightly i can only imagine that under his breath the son with great relief said,” it is good to be home”. It was in his fathers arms were he knew he was home, safe, and at peace.
If there is one thing I am sure of it is this: God is love. I have been in love before. The kind that has the depths to penetrate your soul. And at the end of that love came a rejection that swept over me all to quickly. I am sure you have felt this heartache before, one that seems to leave you breathless. The beauty of Gods love is that you will never feel rejection. Ever. His arms will never turn you away nor will His love ever have an end. In fact, His arms are permently open waiting to embrace each of us as we return home. As I picture His arms spread open I can not help but to imagine the cross. A true represention that He is love. God is waiting for you and me. His very heartbeat is callling his chlidren to come home. No more running. No more searching. Run into the Fathers arms for there is no place like home.
