When our daughter came home this week, she knit a house for a baby gift. It looks like a very comfortable dwelling place; maybe not quite big enough for me, but it does make me think how thankful I am to be living in a comfortable home. When I visited a pioneer village and a Shaker community, their living situations seemed so uncomfortable; straw pillows and all. Yet that’s all they knew, or it was a choice they made or had to make. That was home for them.
Where is home when I am far away from “home”? Although a bit cliché, I think home is where my heart is. My heart holds God, so my home must be anywhere that God is, which is everywhere. So I can be at home anywhere I go. How cool is that!
Bread for the Journey 