Home is indeed “where the heart is”

Home. They say it’s where the heart is. I’m not sure that’s true for everyone, but it most certainly is for me.

I’m thankful for my work. On most days, I find a good deal of satisfaction in my work and enjoy it. Up to a point, I like to work. I even like where and with whom I do my work.

But I love knowing that at the end of a good day’s work, on most days, I’ll be home.

My wife and I have been blessed by some wonderful trips—more and better than I’d ever dreamed possible—and, up to a point, I like to travel. I’m very thankful for what we’ve been able to do and see. And, yes, we’ve taken some trips on which I’d have been willing to stay for a few more days or even weeks. (I doubt I’d make it as an Alaskan crab fishermen, but I’d love to spend summers up there.)

But, I’ve never seen much I liked better than home.

Like most folks with active kids—and our four boys were the definition of “active”—we had years of almost camping out at the Little League Park and then football stadiums and gyms in towns all over the area and beyond. We’ve got great memories from those years. I’m glad we did it, and I’m still much more than a little proud of the way those guys played and the honors they piled up.

But finding balance is a difficult thing. I thought then and I still think, we’d all be better off if, in the midst of all the good activities, we had more time—made more time—to be home.

It’s hard for me to realize that some folks don’t want to be. Home, that is. And not just folks who have rocky marriages or rotten kids. Some people just can’t sit still. They find home boring, I guess. I think these must be the folks who lie awake at night dreaming up reasons for the rest of us never to be home either.

I just don’t understand it. I’m one of those people who blow the top out of personality tests in the “active/social/outgoing/likes people” category. That’s a good thing, I guess, because it’s pretty much required in my work.

But I also find myself to be excellent company. And, for me, the very definition of a great Saturday is one on which I never leave the house. I like it here. (I’m writing late at night at home.) I like what I can do here. I am never bored here.

Like most folks, I used to wonder if I’d like it when the nest was empty. The answer is, “Yes, indeed. It is still a very good nest.”

I’m so glad we could raise our kids here. I love it when they come home. And I am delirious about it when my granddaughter heads to my home. The more of the bunch that are here, the merrier!

But if it’s just me and the gal who’s done the lion’s share in making this a good home, I still love it. Why? Because it’s home.

One day all of God’s children will be truly home for the very first time. If that was the only hint we had of heaven, it would be enough to make it heavenly.