Home...

I've been thinking a lot lately about missing home.

In fact, I've been thinking about the question, where exactly IS home? Is home where I came from, where my parents are, where I was raised and where the first horse that ever bucked me off still lives? Is it the spot in the Gillard quarter where we camped in our little camper for weeks at a time, and I got to play house for the first time? I set up the camper, fed the boys off of the little propane stove, picked berries, rode horses for hours and hours... and I knew every nook and cranny of that quarter.

Is home where I lieved in Red Deer, my first real house, my first escapade all alone? Is it where I first learned so many truths about God, and came running back to him as my first love?

Is home CLBI where I met my husband, learned so much about love, belonging, frusteration, and God?

Or is home where I am now, my beautiful new home with my husband, where I have the new role of a wife, and where God just keeps building my faith; where I will have our children, where I will learn to love and give, expect and balance. Is it the future that I have, the assurance that I am and always will be loved by the best man on earth?

Is home where the heart is?

Because my heart is in a million places! Sometimes my heart is in places I haven't even been to yet, like in Mexico, on a mission that I want to go on so badly. My heart is where I grew up, where I grew to, and where I am now. Home is pretty spread out if that's where home is.

But then I thought, where is my heart...

above all?

With God.

Wherever he is.

My heart has a home. My heart's home isn't here. It's at home when I know that I AM where God wants me to be.

Ulimtately, my heart is at home when it knows where it is going.

Heaven.

Literally.