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Home

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, your evil little catchy song has been stuck in my head for days. *thanks*.

“Home.  Let me come ho-oo-ome. Home is whenever I’m with you. Oh Home! I’m coming ho-oo-ome! Home is when I’m alone with you.”

I want to find a “home”. And I don’t mean a house…or a city or state. We all know that home means more than that.

I grew up in a good home. I may not have realized it at the time, but I really did. I had a good family, four amazing brothers and sisters, two faithful and united parents, and the best dog and best cat anyone could ever wish for. It’s amazing how easy it is to take something like “home” for granted.  The feeling of home. Of being “at home”.

I’m at the age where my peers are going out and creating new “homes” with someone else. Now, I don’t really think of myself as a romantic… but there is something within me that resonates with the idea of finding home with someone, with taking that home, and making children with which to share that home, that love and knowing, with.

To me, home is the place of knowing, truly knowing, another person in all their entirity. It’s the place where you see all the good and bad in someone else, and accept and love them because of and inspite of them. It’s the place of absolute openness and acceptance. To be seen. To be known. And to still be loved and thought well of. Sadly,  Home is a rarity.

I’ve only felt home, outside of my family, a few times in my life. The rare close friend that I had, the one time that I was in love,  and with the few friends that I left college and still stayed in contact with. *These* are my homes.

Lately, I have been thinking about this a lot. Partly because I, physically, am not living in a physical house that belongs to me… and partly because I am separated from the majority of those who make up “home” for me.

I want to go home. I want to be surrounded by those who make up my home. And I want to find the person with whom I can both find and create and “home” with whom to share for many years to come.  Mostly, I want to be at the place again where I can “feel” my real Home no matter where I’m at. I want to be sure and to hope in the Home that can never be destroyed or stolen away or killed.

Lord, I want to come Home.

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