Sunday, September 24, 2017

“We are all strangers in a strange land, longing for home, but not quite knowing what or where home is. We glimpse it sometimes in our dreams, or as we turn a corner, and suddenly there is a strange, sweet familiarity that vanishes almost as soon as it comes.”

~ Madeleine L’Engle

Home. Just whispering the word evokes a sense of longing. Is it that way for you too?

I dreamed about home last night but it was more a feeling than a place. I walked along a sandy beach while the storm raged and the waves broke white and I was overcome with awe at the power while at the same time comforted by it. Within the deafening roar of the wind and the waves was a stillness, and I knew that I could wail into the storm and let go of all that burdened me and the peace would absorb it.

Home, not where I expected it to be but there all the same.



I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.

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