As I drive to work–or home from work, I have a great and grand opportunity to think–to observe. My drive takes me down some very pastoral roads, through woods and fields and farms.
A little over a week ago I saw a calf that was merely an hour or two old. It was standing for the first time. Momma cow stood back a little to give the baby some room AND some motivation–what need has a baby to stand up and walk if Momma is right there? I recognized this event as I was hurtling past–so I stopped and backed up and took a moment to watch. The baby got its wobbly hind legs organized, then proceeded to come up onto one front leg at a time–listing a little with the effort. It was a snow white calf–so white it was glowing–and white calves don’t stay that way for long. It sort of half walked, half stumbled over to its Momma–they touched noses–the baby leaned against her neck and shoulder. I relayed this word for word to my friend, Carolyn, (she sent me a blue tooth, so I had BOTH hands firmly on the wheel) as I had nearly scared her to death with my exclamation of joy over realizing that I was witnessing an event!
There are other times I am driving home after dark. I may have my windows down, or the car vents open to let it some cool, night air. The dew has fallen, and if it weren’t pitch black dark, I would see a mist hovering over the field. There is a scent of my childhood that comes into the windows. It is the smell of damp, dead grass mixed with green clover and cattle–manure, sweat, fur. It’s not necessarily something you’d bottle and sell, but it calls me home. Not to the home where I’m physically headed, but to the one where I started.
I was talking to an older gentleman at church one Sunday a while ago and told him we were “going home.” He said, “No. Your home is here with your husband and children.” It was an admonition of sorts–he said it remind me of where my heart should be. I get that. I’ve often said that home is where Tony is. I am, after all, the one who hied off to the big, ‘ole city of Houston to be with the man. But I didn’t need to be reminded. I also didn’t feel like explaining myself. I just smiled and nodded and moved on to my pew. And I thought about where home really is. Yes–home is where my husband is, it’s where we live and raise our children. But I’ve had MANY homes; some where I lived for years; some where I lived for a few months; some where I’ve owned or rented a dwelling; some where I have been a visitor but am treated like family; some where I have worked or gone to camp or school; some where I have felt a deep attachment after being there only once; and One Home that I’ve never seen with my eyes but know with my heart.
It Be's That Way Sometimes 
I am up late, looking up sick dog symptoms on the internet. She is not feeling good – second night in a row of very sad and bad symptoms poor girl. Vet appt. on Thursday but it’s so bad I will take her tomorrow.
I get what the old man was saying about Home, and I agree with him, he’s right, but I also know what you mean. I don’t have any other home than this one – this house, my husband, my boys. But that’s because any other homes I’ve ever had no longer exist. Even the “where I’m from” home is not home… it’s where I’m from. But then, your heart loves always, and doesn’t sever ties with anyone or anywhere you love, so home is truly where your heart is 🙂
Yes. . .where the heart is. Right NOW my home is sitting in two different school buildings in Magnolia ISD. 🙂 Sorry your puppy is sick.
If I find in myself a desire which no experience in the world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. – C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity
“created for a place I’ve never known” Switchfoot
“Thou hast made us for yourself and our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee.” Augustine
“He has also set eternity in the hearts of men;” Ecclesiastes 3:11
“One Home that I’ve never seen with my eyes but know with my heart.”
Thank you for finding and writing those quotes here. . .I love them all.
I love this Roxanne It was so beautiful to read… (brought tears to my eyes actually) My girlfriend of many years once said to me, whenever I come to visit you, no matter where you are, I feel at home, and I thought about that while reading your note. I think home is not a place outside of ourselves, rather, like you wrote, it is wherever our heart chooses to sit in any given moment.