The Cry for Home

The past couple of weeks have been overwhelmingly ooc (out of control, for those who don't know). We went on vaca to Sunset Beach. Beautiful, awesome, and in the middle of our vaca we got the call that my husband's grandfather died - on Father's Day :( So, we packed up our stuff and went up to Maryland for another several days. My poor baby has been out of whack. He has never cried so much. He travels super well in the car and then when we get to a new place, he cries for the next 24 hours every time he is awake. When we got home he didn't do this. He peacefully returned back to whatever and however we were living before as though there was no interruption. I heard a quote from Maya Angelou this morning, “The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” Where is home? Is it a place? Is it a person? Is it a dream? Is it a pet? Is it a family home or Grandma's porch? Is it a church you grew up in? Is it in Mama's cooking? Is it a country or a state? And, does it have to be somewhere we've been before to truly feel like home? Or can it be somewhere we hope for? My life has consisted of much change and movement. When I think of home on this earth I feel the pangs of disappointment and loss. And in asking myself these questions there is one vision that appears over and over in my head as where I feel like I'm most home - my head resting on the chest of Jesus as He holds me close and whispers to me that "everything is going to be okay." Maybe not here, but I have a home awaiting me where there will be no more heartache and loss and pain and death. Just peace like a river with the Savior stroking my hair fully loved and accepted as I am.