I am comfortably sitting at my parents' place, on their couch, enjoying the barking of puppies and the laughter of the "men." I had to run some errands before I got to my parents' house tonight. In one store, I had a clerk ask me if I was "going home" for Thanksgiving. It struck me. Home? Well, my response was, "Well, my home is here. But I am going to be with my parents." I do not consider my parents' house my home. It is where my family is, but I am a big kid. I have made a home with my husband. Part of this may be because my parents moved when I was 23, and I have never lived at their current address or in their current town. But I've been opening the question to those around me...where is your home?
My mother says home is where she is now...
My dad says home is where he grew up...
My grandmother (in her 70s) says that home is the town where she spent most of her years but hasn't lived in a decade...
I find this concept interesting. So, where is your home?
Wherever it is, may you be at peace and remember God's blessings and wonder on Thanksgiving.
Here's to home.
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