Friday, July 1, 2011
I hug my babes and kiss my man. I board the plane to Seattle, to my brother and his wife and their little one.
I walk the trail my brother runs and watch the clouds. This place is new, all new to me, and yet this place feels like a homecoming to the soul.
A sense of place sends deep roots into the heart. I remember childhood and the breeze of the San Francisco Bay. I remember trails by the lake in the park; trees in mountain campgrounds. And here, today, I find the Puzzle Grass my fingers puzzled when I was seven. I feel at home, like I belong in places like these.
Then God's Spirit blows in my heart. Even here I don't belong. My soul has a true home.
If I feel forever out of place while I walk this life, it is only to remind me that I am...out of place.
The wind blows my pilgrim feet on, pressing on after the One my soul loves. I'm walking home.