Today I'm linking up to Lisa-Jo aka gypsy mama, who chooses a topic every Friday and writes for five minutes.
Only five minutes.
And the rule is that whatever she writes about in that five minutes is what she posts. No editing her thoughts.
Today, her topic choice is "Home…"
So I'm going to set the timer, write some thoughts, and then I'm going to stop.
Ready? Set. Go.
I have lived in this condo since I was 29 years old. I haven't left it, ventured out, even open a window in years. It's where I am, where I will always be, and yet when someone says the word 'home' I don't think here.
I don't think anywhere, really. I think who.
Because my home rests in the hearts of people.
My home is with my mom as I think of her sitting on the porch outside her bedroom, sipping coffee and looking out over the beautiful landscape that nature created.
Some days my home walks right into the condo, like it did today, when Tyler and Jonboy helped their grandma deliver groceries. Sweet Jonboy, who asked if he could do anything to help me. So he filled up my bird feeders and swept in the kitchen because his heart, my home, is filled with more love than it can hold.
It's with friends who are near and loved ones who are far. It's with people I've shared my life with but may never meet face to face, until we all go to our final Home.
Our Home in heaven where my Dad is this Father's Day. He is my home, his own heart so close to Jesus' I can almost feel both of them beating in mine, so close in my thoughts and so far from my touch.
My home is not here. It's not in a country or state or town or walls. It's in the hearts of the people I love.
And their home is in mine.