I’ve been thinking about the idea of home. It’s such a comforting word. There’s a time to go out exploring… and a time to come home.

Growing up, Dad was a hard-working provider. He sacrificed for his family. We knew he loved us—but he was quiet, distant… a man who mostly lived inside himself.

Mom was the opposite. Warm. Loving. Present. She loved loving people—especially her family. She lived with humble means, but carried an overflowing abundance of love. Mom was the heart and soul of our home. Every holiday, you went home… or at least tried to. I’m still adjusting to her recent passing.

The other night I turned to my wife and said, “You are my home.”

She tenderly replied, “Thank you… and you are my home.”

We live in a house— but a building is not a home. We make payments. We fix things. We pull weeds and trim trees. That’s maintenance.

Home is defined by relationship. It’s where love flows. It’s where you hear, “Welcome home!” It’s a big hug… and children who don’t want to let go. It’s the place where you are known—and loved.

Close-

Home on earth and home in Heaven are two beautiful places. Why? Because it’s where you are always welcome… and where you truly belong.

Prayer-

Abba, Jesus, and Holy Spirit, thank You for being my home. You are where I eternally belong. Amen.

Scripture-

“My Father’s house has many rooms… I am going there to prepare a place for you.” John 14:2 (NIV)