When I think of home I think of a place
where there’s love overflowing
I wish I was home
I wish I was back there with the things I been knowing – Diana Ross, The Wiz
“The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” – Maya Angelou
Ade’ crawled into bed with me early this morning. We’d squeezed our bodies, 2 adults and 4 children, across the length of two full-sized air mattresses. Seeking the splendor of sleep after a full day of food and laughter we managed to get comfortable enough to achieve our goal.
Just before dawn he crawled over the bodies of 2 of his siblings to find me and snuggled deep in the security he unearths in my form. The world full of love he’s come to trust is wrapped in the complicated beauty of a woman he calls mama. He didn’t open his eyes or talk. Quietly he found his way in the darkness – to me. Sometimes home is a body, and mine, in it’s perfect imperfection is one of his.
And I wondered, what is it in us that craves the familiar, the matrix, our mothers, our fathers, our families …home. When is it that we stop finding our way home, when is that we stop looking for our center? Do we ever?
I don’t have much to offer this weekend.
I followed my husband to the suburbs of Maryland to celebrate Thanksgiving this weekend. His favorite brother lives here and we’ve visited at least twice a year almost every year of our marriage. It’s – a place we’ve enjoyed as a respite from the life we live in the city. We don’t have to look for parking …ever…and a backyard is a simple joy I don’t take lightly. Our children fell in love with the little people who emerged from the union of this family and live the freedom of relaxed rules being around cousins brings. We know the safety of a cul-de-sac and fantasize about life as regular Walmart shoppers. In a sense, it has become one of our homes.
For more reasons than I can recount in this space, something about being here makes me think of home.
I know it isn’t simple. Home can feel like an irreversible condition, a place of pain and hard to heal confusion. If that’s true for you I pray God creates a safe space for the generation you’ll lead as a spouse or parent. Through a fair measure of grace and thoughtful intention curses can be broken and new models of family living are possible.
I believe that.
So here’s hoping you’ve found your way home this weekend – wherever that is. I pray you feel safe and secure … that you feel complete. I pray you are forgiven and live the power of that redemption by offering it to others. Here’s hoping you found your way to the people and places that hold the treasury of your stories. That you sense an unconditional love and true sense of belonging, that being home fills your heart with hope.
Let your handmaiden find grace in your sight … #GiveMeGrace