Where Is Your Home?
It seems like such a simple question. Where is your home? I was born in a pretty little town in the foothills of North Georgia. I love my hometown and don’t get to go back nearly as often as I’d like to. My immediate family lives here in FL with me now but I have Aunts, Uncles, and cousins by the dozens that live in Georgia.
Once upon a time I had my “Georgia Accent”, but years of school in Florida seemed to make me lose all of that, but give me several days with my family and I’m saying “home” in two syllables!
When I go to visit I always go to the home where my grandparents lived. There were many, many hours of stories, laughter and hugs there. I can close my eyes and I’m there again with family.
On our last visit there this summer, my mother pointed out important places of our life while living there. The place they were married, their first home, Mama’s favorite spot to skate as a child, her school, and don’t ask me of what importance this is, but she had to show me the place she use to go and wash my diapers!
Each time I visit becomes more precious than the last because many of my relatives have passed away. I usually stop at the cemetery where my grandparents, aunts, and uncles are buried. On this last visit as I stood at their graves, I remembered what my Aunt Virginia said to me once. She said, “I don’t live in a very big house, but I’m so glad this isn’t my HOME. I’m headed for my home in Heaven!”
So again, I ask the question, “Where is your home?” I love my Georgia hometown and I love my Florida beach, but I’m not HOME yet.
It seems like such a simple question. Where is your home? I was born in a pretty little town in the foothills of North Georgia. I love my hometown and don’t get to go back nearly as often as I’d like to. My immediate family lives here in FL with me now but I have Aunts, Uncles, and cousins by the dozens that live in Georgia.
Once upon a time I had my “Georgia Accent”, but years of school in Florida seemed to make me lose all of that, but give me several days with my family and I’m saying “home” in two syllables!
When I go to visit I always go to the home where my grandparents lived. There were many, many hours of stories, laughter and hugs there. I can close my eyes and I’m there again with family.
On our last visit there this summer, my mother pointed out important places of our life while living there. The place they were married, their first home, Mama’s favorite spot to skate as a child, her school, and don’t ask me of what importance this is, but she had to show me the place she use to go and wash my diapers!
Each time I visit becomes more precious than the last because many of my relatives have passed away. I usually stop at the cemetery where my grandparents, aunts, and uncles are buried. On this last visit as I stood at their graves, I remembered what my Aunt Virginia said to me once. She said, “I don’t live in a very big house, but I’m so glad this isn’t my HOME. I’m headed for my home in Heaven!”
So again, I ask the question, “Where is your home?” I love my Georgia hometown and I love my Florida beach, but I’m not HOME yet.
John 14:2-3
In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.
