I have these moments of nostalgia sometimes.
I could be listening to a song…
It could be the sound of someone playing the piano…
the scent of fall…
the cool, spring breeze on my face, or the warmth of a summer sun.
These things reach into my soul, to a place I forget is there, and they recall this feeling I can’t quite put into words….
It’s the feeling you get when you’re sitting around a Thanksgiving table with a house full of family and the scent of apple pie in
the feeling you get when you walk in the cool of autumn, hearing the crunch of leaves under your feet, holding the hand of the
one you love….
the feeling you get when you hear a song that sings the lyric you’ve been trying to speak out for years…
the feeling you get when you are HOME.
These feelings make me catch my breath and realize that I’m not home yet.
There is some other realm I’m meant for.
The home I have is simply a reflection of the home my heart longs for.
It isn’t the real thing.
Each piece of furniture, each smell, each picture, each color reflects something about the home my heart longs for….the one it was made for.
I treasure these moments and the things that trigger them, because they make me stand and look at the bigger picture.
They give me this birds-eye view of my world.
They widen my gaze and help me to remember….
One day, I will truly be home.
The reflection will fade away in the reveal of the real.
The people I love will surround me, and I won’t have to cry tears of sadness over their suffering any longer.
I won’t have to worry about ruining the relationship with attitudes or words that don’t fit in this place.
I won’t count calories or think about grains or fats or cellulite or cleaning up after dinner. I will enjoy each moment with no need to look back or forward with longing.
My heart will be completely fulfilled in every way.
My heart will truly be home.