Thursday, February 3, 2011
I have been thinking about home. The days that make up the past few weeks have been filled to the brim with things to do. So many things, grocery shopping, doctor appointments, volunteer work, piano lessons, and a dozen others. Nothing out of the ordinary but all things that take me away from home.
I find myself, at the end of the week, longing to simply spend time at home. This is the place where I am totally comfortable, the place I can fully rest and relax, the place where all of my favorite things reside. The pictures on the walls, the quilts on the beds and hanging from the quilt rack, the piano, the books, the candles, the violets on the window sill, the basket of knitting by the armchair...they all seem to welcome me when I walk in the door.
Today was the day we visit Mom and Dad, and as I was sitting at the little kitchen table, hands wrapped around a hot cup of tea, chatting with Mom I realized that home is not just a place. It is people. When I am with her, I feel as though I have come home. I am totally comfortable, fully embraced and always welcomed.
My own home would not be the same if my husband were not there to share it with me. It is the warmth of his presence, the sharing, the security of being together that make it all so comforting.
There is a day coming when I will find myself in a new home - one whose beauty is beyond my imagining. It will be more wonderful than tongue can tell the scriptures say - streets of gold, gates of pearl, a sparkling river, a mansion custom made just for me. It will be a home like none I've every known, but that is not what will make it warm, comfortable and welcoming.
What will make this custom-made mansion a real home is the presence of the One who made it all possible. For He Himself is home.
"In my Fathers house are many mansions: if it were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you."
linking to Emily's imperfect prose