
Home is where the heart is....so they say....well, whoever "they" are. But isn't that a little true? I can feel at home just about anywhere and I can be "home" but not feel at home.
I just got back from a long family vacation. We went from the bottom of California to the top of Oregon. We mostly stayed at the beach.

It soothes my soul, the beach. I get lost in the rythmn and the lack of time. The beach is refreshing to me. Like salt water heals a wound, the beach heals my tiredness. It is a place where I can rest and laugh and think.
I've been home almost 24 hours. It is actually 23 hours and some minutes, but who is counting. I had a long day today. I took my Kirsten to a leadership retreat at 8, took care of some business for church at 9, then met up with a Bible study/prayer group a little after 9, drank coffee with some great friends who are moving tomorrow morning (don't know when I'll see them again),at 10 got back to church and finished some camp stuff, 11 ish found out the transmission is shot and a new one is on it's way (ugh), 12 ish finally got over to counselor training across town for the rest of the day. Now I'm home.
As I walked up the driveway I told my Bethany that it felt like we were coming home to a new home. The week before we left we had planted a lot of flowers for her graduation party. All my other flowers were also just coming up that week. Tonight it looked like a jungle of plants. A friend had graciously mowed the lawn while we were gone or that would look like a jungle also. But I am home again.
Psalm 23:2-3 (New International Version)
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