Home

They tell you, "Home is where your heart is"...

but what they don't tell you is what to do when your heart has no home...

When your heart is traveling to Colorado in a small silver car,

or reading "Olivia Starts a Band" with the girl whose smile will warm me this winter,

when your heart skipped a beat and with a picture in an envelope...

a surprise cup of coffee in the morning.

When your heart is the notes you strum on the guitar,

the tears you cried over coffee,

the shawl that fits perfectly like your arms,

the laughter that followed the gleeking in my eye.

My heart is going home to Denver,

Going to school in Pittsburgh,

Learning to drink from a "big girl cup"

Working in a bookstore

Keeping the books straight in a furniture store

And helping children in central Illinois.

My heart is you.

They say, "Home is where the heart is"...

My heart is in a coffeeshop in Takahatafudo
In the laughter that follows the stories from "homeless backpacking"

In the train rides and afternoon lunches

In my garbled Japanese

In the three little kids who never cease to amaze me,

who delight and entertain me.

My heart is in the card games,

the movies,

and the chocolate ice cream that we eat.

In the kitchen that smells good

and the smile that lights her face when her dishes get done.

My heart is in the laughter from the cultural blunders.

My heart is you.

My heart is in Him, who had no home, no bed to lay His head on

My heart is in the One who gives me daily grace to love, learn, and laugh

My heart is in Him who watches and protects those that I can't be with.

My heart is in Him who loved me first and gave His so that I could be with Him...

He is the Reason.

My heart is Him.