A house is where people live, but what is home? I had a chance to think about this more lately. Home can mean so many things. Every morning my family and I wake up, do our morning routines and then we either head to work, school or off to run the many different errands we have. We get to come home from where we have gone and that means home to me. Home is when I step through the door knowing my dogs will bark at me, my kids will either be doing something together or off doing things in their own rooms. Home is knowing that my sweet hubby is cooking dinner and will commence in telling me about his day while I tell him about mine. Home is comfort and love.
Home was a weird thing today. My coworkers and I had a chance to walk through a building which was the place in which our careers started. We walked through each room remanincing about old times. We remembered the good times over some of the bad times and we dreamed about the possiblities of the future of being back in the building doing what we did when we started out. Home was in the moment of dreaming again with the people you have worked with and grew with over the last eighteen years. Home is knowing that the ragtag bunch of people are family.
Home is feeling comfortable at a church. One at which you are welcomed no matter what your background. I don’t know everyone and that’s ok. I just know that I am not judged because of what I do for a living. I am not judged nor is my family because of the lifestyle choices my kids make. My daughter and I work in the children’s ministry and we get to love on the kids. My son goes to Wednesday night youth group and the leader loves him and smiles so big when she sees him. The kids in my class come in and give hugs. There are family nights and monthly meals that the church shares together. This is Home.
Home is a dinner/lunch date with a friend. They are few and far between, but when they happen the go on for a couple of hours or more. There is food, drinks and laughter. I feel fulfilled afterwards. My heart spills over. I have one of these dates coming up here shortly. My friend is close to my age but has a young son, where I have older kids. We talk family, work, and animals. We get silly, we involve the waitress and we enjoy our time together. This is home.
Talking to my sister weekly is home. She is a voice of reason, and I love to get her worked up, but not always. If something happens within the extended family she’ll be the one to tell me about it. This has been like this for years and it works. I love hearing from my parents, aunts and uncles, but I know that when something significant happens my sister will call and tell me. My kids love her and my sister knows all about their quirks. There is no judgement just love. This is home.
Home is a good book. I love picking up a good book, a soft blanket and a snack. I love re-reading a good book. It’s like an old friend. I can look any way I want, eat what I want, sit where I want when I get into my book. There is comfort in that.
Home is where the love and comfort is. Home is who you share it with. Home is no judgement, just acceptance. Home has to be found but once it is, it remains. Where is home for you? Until next time:
Negativity is contagious
Unhappiness is contagious. Fear is contagious. But so is happiness. so is optimism. So is love. Surround yourself with people who bring out the best in you. And strive to be a reflection of what you want to receive.Michell C. Clark