Just back from ten beautiful days in North Carolina. Slept a lot. Sat in a canoe. Polished my spiritual armor in the company of faithful companions. It was beautiful.
But it was not home. As it turns out, this is home: This nice seat at the Watertown Library, overlooking Main Street and the lovely steeple of St. Patrick’s (I’ve never been inside, but am thankful for the steeple). Home is walking along the Charles River, thinking about all the generations who have walked here before me. Home is running into friends at Uncommon Grounds, and praying with the good people I serve at Good Shepherd.
They say home is where the heart is. The scriptures say our home is with God and in the reign of God, now and forever. I say both are true. And it’s also true that home can be a feeling that travels with you wherever you are; my friend Sam is at home on a motorcycle, and my friend Beth is most at home when she owns only enough to fit in a backpack.
Where is your home?