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I turn the car onto the road to my house and it happens every time:

My heart gets lighter.

I drive down the road watching for the mailbox.

Seeing it makes me glad but if any of my family members' cars are in the driveway, I am even happier.

Dorothy was correct.

There is no place like home.

I know it is not like this for everyone but it is for me.

So much ink has been spilled writing songs about home, poems about home.

There is even a sickness named for missing it.

I am so grateful that home is where I want to be.

Home is a place I long for when I am not in it.

What will it feel like when I make the final turn toward my real home?

Surely, then too I will be looking ahead in anticipation for the first sighting of my true home and wondering

who will be there waiting for me?

Some of my family has gone ahead of me.

But there is One

Who has paved the way for me

Prepared a place for me

And is waiting and watching for me.

When days seem long

When things just don't line up

When this world just doesn't seem to fit me

I can remember this world

Is not my final home.

Someday

I will turn the final corner

And spot my true home

And The One

Who waits for me.