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Home Is Hope


 Two of my favorite things to talk about are my home and my family and my Father in Heaven.  

Today, I'm feeling philosophical, sentimental and reflective.  What is in a home that makes people write songs and poetry about it?  How does home whether large or small, humble or opulent, perfect or broken draw its family in?

As women we make decisions around making a home, decorating our home, finding a church home, working at home, staying at home or working out of the home.  We tend to disect our lives into pieces with home being four walls and a door that we go in and out of when in reality...home is a way of thinking.

I think our Mothers' generation had defined lines around what was home and what wasn't.  While today, work and study is dynamic and mobile.  Families are pick up homes like a turtle packs his shell.

Whether speaking of home on earth or heaven; home is not just a place.  Home is hope. 

 Home is where the physical, spiritual, emotional and relational all come together.  The roots of our giant family tree. 

I always thought that you could never "go back home" if it was a place that you had never been so this longing for heaven thing was pretty abstract.  

And yet, when I met my birth Dad...I had come home the same as if I go back home to my parents I grew up with.  A type of home had been within my heart, mind and thinking.

 
 Today, I don't have to grieve as some people do because I have the hope that home changes but it doesn't leave us. I will meet my family someday in a forever home in heaven. 

I will not go to my Mother-in-Law's home on this earth but don't worry-I'll go home again one day.
 Home is hope.

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