Always I will be returning to an old place only to find that it is no longer home.
Or discovering a new place and struggling to make a home of it.
Occasionally, I will settle down and be comfortable for awhile and give into the illusion that I am home, that after life changes again I will still have a place to return to.
Since early nomads tried to quit wandering and began to plant seed for bread, we have sought a place. We have longed for home. We have not found it.
I can only find home in love. I can only find home in God.
No comments:
Post a Comment