For the last several years, with the arrival of fall, I always listen to two different albums, The Beatles, "Rubber Soul" and Norah Jones', "Feels Like Home". As I was thinking of these albums, I started to consider items that remind me of home.
In Christian circles, we like to say that the church is not just the building. The same could be said for home. I have lived in the same area my entire life, in three different houses, but I wouldn't necessarily consider those places home. I love to travel; always have, always will. The older I get, the more I am able to travel. I also love building relationships and with the current means of social media, have developed some incredible relationships with dear friends all over the country, allowing me the opportunity to combine mine love of traveling and building relationships.
When I think of home, so often I don't think of a building. No matter what city or state I'm in, I always manage to feel like I'm at home. Home is sitting around a table with family and friends, sharing and laughing. Home is getting off an airplane and meeting familiar faces on the other side. Home is being able to determine which direction the ocean is in. Home is flip flops, Tom Kha soup, soft served ice cream cones, my pink and red coffee mug covered with hearts, and my Ikea duvet cover. Home is phone calls, emails, text messages with words of blessing, encouragement and love. Home is discussing theology and politics. Home is discovering new things and finding adventures.
I know that I will live several places throughout the course of my life and irregardless of the location, I will always feel like I'm at home because my life is full of people who make me feel at home.