Freedom is everything
Alternate take on it:
When I left our house, I did not realize You were there because it was my home.
Bereft by being homeless, I lived in many other houses, and if I found You there, they were my home. When I felt that you left, I would again leave and search for a house.
While homeless, looking for yet another house, I had to sleep out in the park, and strangely I felt at home, under the stars, the warm summer wind whispering in the trees.
Pondering this the next day, still feeling at home while walking the streets and paths and countryside, everything seemed different, and I no longer searched for a new house.
Sometimes people invited me into thier houses, sometimes I felt at home with them, and sometimes I didn’t, but I always was thankful for their kindness.
Sometimes I rented. Sometimes I slept in the park. I bought a tent. I have been to hostels and hotels and once slept in a field.
I have felt at home in all theses places, even if I knew I would not want to stay there.
And with dawning awareness I came to realize we were always together, and we were Home.
(inspired by your post, and with an almost instant sense of what I wrote above entering my thoughts)
Thank you Nancy…. I suppose as I read what you wrote my thoughts were home is all about perspective …. Rest, have peace where you now stand.
Foxes have dens, birds have nests, but the Son of Man is homeless – and if faith is a “journey,” as we like to say, we have to leave home too.