There is something so amazing about the feeling of coming home. Matt and I have been traveling for the past 2 weeks in California and it was interesting to notice how often I felt like I was home. There was the moment of walking into Mom and Dad's house and smelling the familiar and yet specific scent of my childhood and the overwhelming knowledge of being home. There were all the interactions with close friends and family which spoke to my soul in a way that only deep friendships can. And with each interaction, the fleeting knowledge of being at home in my soul.
Yet what surprised me the most was the overwhelming gratefulness of stepping off the plane at our journey's end knowing that we were finally home: to our small apartment that smells of dust and whatever our next door neighbor might be smoking, to a daily routine that probably wont change anytime soon, to bills, to new friends and to our own bed.
It's strange how I could feel the sense of "being home" in so many different circumstances and makes me wonder how much more intense and satisfying the feeling of being home will be when we are finally at home with our Father. It reminds me of Job's words in Job 19, "I will see Him with my own eyes, I and not another. How my soul longs within me."
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