I was walking the compound last night as I usually do, checking doors and making sure things were OK when my mind wandered to a part of the old song “Home for Christmas”…the part that says, “I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.” I didn’t get very far with that when I stopped in my tracks and thought about why I might be singing that part and what thoughts were coming into my head because I was singing it.
My thoughts didn’t go back to my childhood. Yes, we had Christmas when I was small, and we had the tree, lights, gifts, and all of that. Rather, my thoughts went to times when we had our own kids at home; when the gifts were transformers, baseball gloves, and toy products for boys out of the 1980’s.
Then I thought about where “home” actually was this year. If I would be “home” for Christmas this year, where is that? Is it here in Wichita? Is it where we lived with our young family for 16 years as they grew up? Topeka? Western Kansas? Central Kansas?
My mind would have none of those places. Home, it turns out, was the place that Jesus told about when He said, “I go and prepare a place for you.” Home was someplace I’ve never been before, but have a taste of what it is like right here and now. They say home is where the heart is. I wonder if that can be true more than anyone can know.
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