Friday, June 17, 2011


Home is where I feel yesterdays bits of sand under my feet as I pace and sway across the wood floors with my baby in my arms in the wee hours of the night.

The sand doesn't bother me. I suppose it should, but what is a dirty floor in this fallen world?

Home is where I don't know how to comfort, don't know how to soothe, don't know how to make this baby stop crying. Praying. Asking. Jesus! What am I missing? What is wrong? Why is this happening?

A heavy head lays upon my shoulder and a slumber sets in. I look down and am overwhelmed as I envision the Lord pacing back and forth holding my friends in His arms. Their legs wrapped around His chest.

Oh the love [much deeper-higher-wider than mine] He feels for them.

Home is where I ask, What do I do? Little me. To soothe my crying friends
this week.

A friend who miscarried on her birthday.
A friend whose son has been told the cancer has spread.
A friend whose married ended.
A friend whose husband is infected and lying in a hospital bed.
A friend whose mother has been diagnosed with cancer.
A friend who is tormented with fear.
A friend who has lost a family member.

Home is...not here. This, this world, is not my home.



  1. beautiful word picture of the Lord's comfort.

  2. I agree. Beautiful imagery here.

    Also praying for you and your friends.

  3. " Home is...not here. This, this world, is not my home." Beautiful post. How he comforts us when all is coming undone.. bless you!

  4. Amen. This world is not my home. I love this word picture you painted.

  5. Beautiful. I always so enjoy reading your posts.

  6. Wow. That was powerful. And such an awesome reminder.

  7. Ah - the swaying and pacing.
    Picturing you wrapped in His arms as I move through my own home this morning tending.



Related Posts with Thumbnails