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Monday, January 5, 2015

Home and comfort

We're suckers for it, aren't we. We romanticise the idea of home - cosy and warm and lovely. And so when autumn comes round we settle down for a few months and we love the idea of scented candles, and blankets, a stew that's been cooking in the slow cooker all day and a glass of wine in front of the fire whilst we cuddle up in front of House of Cards or Suits or Breaking Bad or whatever other delights Netflix has to offer. 


I do it as much as the next person. 

Home is all those things and so much more. 

It's Steve waiting in the house when I get in or coming in on his bike shortly after, every weeknight. Yes, even that pesky bike that insists on living in our front room or dining room, represents home. 

Home is hot showers, coffee in bed and our sheets that smell of our detergent. Where we eat what we like, we do what we want, we only have people that we want round - most of the time.

Home is where my emotions can be expressed in their raw-est form (yea, you don't really want to see me ugly cry), joy can be more squealy than anywhere else, I can silly dance in my kitchen or sing made-up lyrics as loud as I want. 
You get my drift.

And that's home for me now, where Steve is, and where we currently live. And I love it so much.


But then there's home home. That place I haven't lived in for six years, and isn't technically home but I can't stop calling home because, well...I just can't. It's where my mum and dad are and my oldest friends are and I grew up. And I've been pining for that home this Christmas because I've wanted to be there to celebrate, to walk through the dark cancer valley with my mum, to just feel at ease straight away in a way I can't anywhere else. And maybe the call of that home has been stronger because I can't get to it at the moment. 



I wonder what you call home - is it a person, or a place, or an address or even a feeling? Maybe all of those things at different times?


A couple of weeks ago a friend posted some of this on their Facebook wall, and so I read this help devotion by Alicia Bruxvoort. Here's an extract..

"You see, home isn’t a place, it’s a Person.
Home isn’t a refuge from the storm. It’s a Perfect Love that storms our hearts.
Home isn’t the light at the end of the road. It’s an unquenchable Hope that lights our way.
And right before Jesus went to Heaven to prepare a forever place for you and me, He reminded us of that simple truth.
We don’t find home by following a yellow brick road. Home finds us when we follow Christ’s commands and choose to live as His beloved.
Our zip code may change and the familiar may fade, but when we build our lives on the cornerstone of Christ, we are never far from home."

It's a hard hitting truth isn't it? One I know somewhere deep down but I could do with reminding myself of all.the.time. And I hope whatever sort of home you are loving at the moment, or whatever kind of home you dream you will one day have, that you realise that you can have the best kind of home, right now.  

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