It’s this feeling that rises up inside “I want to go home”. I’ve been traveling this weekend, and while I like to taste new foods and see new sights, there’s nothing quite like resting in your home again.
There’s someone else who is homeless. Our dear God is searching for a home. His home is within our hearts, and yet, perhaps there is not much room there for Him. On my trip, I became inspired to open a business someday. I don’t know that it will ever become too serious of an endeavor, but for awhile, I did enjoy daydreaming about the fonts I might use, the features I might have, the food I might sell. In the same way, when the Lord came into my spirit, He was very happy there. Now there was a place where He might have a home. But it doesn’t stop there. My soul still has the tracks and marks of God’s enemy. Just like the poor cafe with the ugly logo, my own heart is damaged. Its brokenness echoes the story of a historic robbery. And while my spirit bears the evidence of salvation, my soul is a work in progress. How much I need Him! This is my Friend and my Love. Eventually, we will both be at home.