Tomorrow we leave for Louisiana to see my parents, brother and his family, and sister. There is a mix of excitement, anticipation, and anxiety. . .the latter comes mainly from marital strife between some family members. I wish happiness and harmony for them, but they seem to think things are too far gone.
Anyway. The kids are excited. The clothes are packed (and it’s not even midnight). I am ready visit with Momma and Daddy. We may take the kids and my nephews to see Cars–second time for mine. We will swim at my sister’s house. We will make memories for the children.
Thing is that a couple of years ago I realized that when I say, “I’m going home,” what I mean is that I’m going to my childhood home. Then we come “back home” to Houston. I would say that Houston has become home, but that’s not true either. Home is wherever the people who live under my roof are located–Tony, Victoria, and Thad. Tomorrow home will be in our car. Last week home was in Galveston. Home is wherever my own little family of four happens to be. REALLY home is where Tony is, because at the beginning and in the end, he will be the only one with whom I’ve made a home.
And one day, when we all get to heaven, then we will truly be Home, because we will all be there together forever–and not just my family of four–all of us. Home is where the heart is–right? Well, God has “placed eternity in the hearts of men”, so I know that though this world is a lovely place full of wonder and amazement and joy, my Home is over Jordan in the presence of my Father.
Have a good weekend.