We took a long trip home last week. It was hard. It was work. It was imperfect hearts learning to be selfless and giving and learning to love in action not just words. We almost got swallowed by the past. But we remembered the future. And then we came home. And we went to the mountains and we BREATHED. What is it about those mountains? They open up your lungs. They just let you be. They just let you enjoy them. And as I climbed that hill with a scared kitten trailing an adoring little girl and a pissed off possessive dog and a sucker eating sticky boy my heart slowed. And it whispered 'you are home. you have made it home'
I don't know why this place is home right now but it is.
Home used to be sub saharan africa with temperatures always in the 100s and bright bright sunshine and sweat rolling down my back. I breathed that dusty dry air that was mixed with all kinds of unpleasant smells and my heart slowed and it whispered 'you are home. you are home'.
During a particularly (the most of my life) rough year I would come to the house I grew up in. To the people who have stood behind me and loved me even when I was ugly. I would stand in that kitchen, hug my mom who smelled like my life and my heart would slow and it whispered 'you are home. you are safe'
During every single day of my life when I get frustrated with my posse. When I am frustrated with breaking three glass jars in two weeks. When I am frustrated with the dog digging holes in backyard this man who has promised to love me forever and always looks at me with knowing, touches my shoulder, or hugs me all the way around and my heart slows and it whispers 'you are home. you are loved'
People say that home is where the heart is. My heart has been in so many places-is in so many places. I have so many homes.
