My parents bought a home in the country after marrying. Almost 60 years later you wouldn’t recognize the place. The lengthy gravel driveway I ran barefoot is buried under burning asphalt. The mulberry tree, turning our fingers purple, was cut down decades ago. Corncrib tunnels I climbed, peeking through wooden slats, was taken by tornado. The pier where I took my first blind leap is gone. Despite a million changes, it still breathes a scent of home for me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We\u2019ve lived in our home 20 years. With the exception of our first tainted, teenage year of marriage I\u2019ve lived on the same road my whole life. I know where snowdrifts mound in winter, the hour afternoon shade hits back patio, when to expect neighbors home from work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Entering this house, wedding rings and chapstick drop into the same cereal-bowl-sized basket piling dental floss and motion sickness lozenges. Gray striped pillows and throw strewn across the couch like an unmade bed. Cell phone plugs in and shoulders power down. The front door shuts like a line no one can cross unless invited. It’s private. My things are near, I\u2019m covered here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Knowing we’ll be back lets us out like homing pigeons, doesn’t it? No matter where we go, doesn\u2019t matter how far the distance\u2014or short the stay, the heart is set on returning to its nest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\u2019s painfully familiar to be home.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n We don\u2019t always get to pick our homes. Sometimes our settings shift and our homes pick us. Sometimes circumstances hit, hard<\/em>, and we\u2019re locked in a home we never imagined our hearts living.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Pastor Corey Buchanan is Executive Director for Chicagoland Prison Outreach where David volunteers. As a young man Corey was incarcerated. With few personal items, he was confined to concrete conditions and steel bars. Three whole years\u2026prison was home. Attending the Life Learning Program Corey found the home his heart had been hammering for all along. Still caged by consequence\u2014he walked a freed man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Corey and his wife, Tiffany, ride in the backseat on our double-date to a concert. When these two fellas get together, the men they serve start at the top of their love list of things to talk about. David is hurting for a disheartened inmate whose cellgot flipped in a random search. Yeah, it\u2019s difficult<\/em>, Corey’s voice fades\u2014remembering when home was a shockingly public space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n David met Beatrice on a missions trip to Kenya. She lives in a 10 x 10 tin hut with her infant twins in the Mathare Valley. A single, salvaged painting completes her decor. Her cot stacks cooking utensils by day, ten others share her recycled sheet of linoleum by night. She welcomes missionaries in her home with a glowing smile and a worn, Swahili bible in her hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Home is not where the heart is\u2014<\/strong>home lives in our hearts.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Home is knit within. Inward parts home-made. Assembled in secret\u2014stamped in glory. To the Potter who formed this pulpy heart\u2014we are forever drawn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Moving heavy appliances, tables, and chairs our oak floors needed refinishing. Before that, dulling, birch cabinets were recycled and new hickory installed. Window trim was peeling and doors were warping. Nothing is here to stay, all we see rusts away. Roof and walls is just enough to comfort the senses, but the heart still groans for an unidentified address. Our loan heart pines from whence it came and will not relent until it arrives.<\/strong> Until reclothed in unblemished residence, its holy habitation\u2014permanent citizenship.<\/p>\n\n\n\n No matter where we live\u2014a Gold Coast apartment, a rural two-story, a prison cell, or a shanty in the slums of Nairobi\u2014our heart compass points toward home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n People like Corey and Beatrice turn the key of contentment. Void of comfort, they reclined comfortably. Apart from stability, they stood wholly stable\u2014because when our heart dwells in the house of Lord, we behold the beauty of the Lord.<\/em><\/strong>When our days are repeatedly troubled, our heart rests hidden under His pavilion\u2014found and framed high upon a rock. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" My parents bought a home in the country after marrying. Almost 60 years later you wouldn’t recognize the place. The lengthy gravel driveway I ran barefoot is buried under burning asphalt. The mulberry tree, turning our fingers purple, was cut down decades ago. Corncrib tunnels I climbed, peeking through wooden slats, was taken by tornado. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":143625079,"featured_media":1012,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_coblocks_attr":"","_coblocks_dimensions":"","_coblocks_responsive_height":"","_coblocks_accordion_ie_support":"","advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"jetpack_seo_schema_type":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_wpcom_ai_launchpad_first_post":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[400],"tags":[773157885,4040,773157834,24193,773157876],"class_list":["post-2600","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-home","tag-contentment","tag-heart","tag-home","tag-missions","tag-salvation"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pacmrQ-FW","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":12365,"url":"https:\/\/joalo.org\/?p=12365","url_meta":{"origin":2600,"position":0},"title":"A Word About Trouble","author":"Jo Alo","date":"January 1, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"I woke to a troubling sound in the night. At first it sounded as though it was beneath me. A single clink from the heat vent. What could that be, I wondered. Then it grew and I walked around the dark room for a clue. 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Or are you working harder than ever to live forever? After Jesus saved me, I worked like crazy to prove I was worth it. Have you felt that millstone to justify yourself? 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But it couldn\u2019t be done\u2014because there\u2019s something overpowering about becoming one. \u201cThe mystery which has been hidden for ages and from all generations, but now has been revealed\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Love"","block_context":{"text":"Love","link":"https:\/\/joalo.org\/?cat=3785"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/joalo.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/img_6283.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/joalo.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/img_6283.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/joalo.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/img_6283.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/joalo.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/img_6283.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/joalo.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/img_6283.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":8177,"url":"https:\/\/joalo.org\/?p=8177","url_meta":{"origin":2600,"position":4},"title":"“My whole heart.” Psalm 9:1","author":"Jo Alo","date":"March 3, 2023","format":false,"excerpt":"This is what the Lord Jesus Christ requires. The whole kit & caboodle. He's an all or nothing Savior. And aren't we grateful? Coming because He desired that none should perish. Went to the cross so He could bear every sin. 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