I thought home was made of memories
The fort we built with Dad
The creek we claimed as explorers
The couch where Mom read
But I am no longer that child,
Where is my home now?
Perhaps home is a place of origin
The food my family eats
The way the plants grow
The music that warms my soul
But when the flaws of my people show,
Who am I now?
Maybe home is the people I choose
The birthday party goers
The people I look up to
The friends who have my back
But I change; they change,
Who will love me now?
I guess home could be a dream
The city that seems green
A better place for my health
Opportunity to settle down
What if I’m as lonely there as now?
What if home wasn’t something
I touch or see or know —
It’s not built in a town
Or my dream world
Or a circle of friends
All those things fade
Home is coming (not going)
An inheritance
Imperishable
Undefiled
Unfading
The owner of my home is not me
He’s my Father and my God
He picked me up out of darkness
Reborn, wrapped in swaddling clothes
He taught me not to fight
To relax and know
I am safe
He is God
Not I
In this I rejoice —
My home is more precious than gold
It will not fade, nor fall away
It is not tarnished by my trials
It is protected,
Guarded
I believe in this home
Rejoicing in hope, for I am
Born again
In Him