Home Part 3
June 4, 2026
Home Part 3
I’ve been out of pocket lately… I have been moving, traveling, staying in motion. There’s a certain energy in that kind of life, but after a while, something subtle begins to slip. Without realizing it, I start to feel untethered… slightly unmoored. Not lost, but not fully grounded either. Something calls me back home.
Even in the midst of that hurried pace, I’ve found moments of stillness—quiet reflections, small islands of meditation. Those helped. But they were not the same as being home. And so, in answering the call home, I don’t just notice it, I feel it. I savor it. My heart and soul yearn for it. They say home is where the heart is. That phrase has caused me to explore more deeply why it is true.
For many, home is where we are known without explanation. It is where we can exhale. It is a base, a center, a nest. A place where we are not performing, not adjusting, not reinventing ourselves to fit the moment. We rest, we settle. We are, and that is enough. Of course, not everyone has experienced home this way. But for those who have, home is a living space of belonging, of dwelling. There is a quiet agreement between place and person: you are safe here… your soul is held here.
At home, life’s most meaningful moments often unfold. These are not always the dramatic ones, but the steady, shaping ones. Conversations, silences, routines, laughter, loving each other and the dogs, but also even sorrow. It is where it all happens. All of it gathers there, layering meaning into the walls, into the furniture, into the very atmosphere. And so it makes sense that the heart attaches itself to such a place. The body’s senses and instincts are constantly triggered at home… the life, the memories, the stirrings of the soul, that happen only there.
When we are away, unless we are fleeing something, we eventually begin to miss home. Even the most beautiful destinations cannot replace the familiar rhythm of our own space. Away, we are guests of someone or of a hotel. But at home, we belong and we are the ones who receive guests. Returning to my home recently after being away, I felt something immediate and unmistakable. It was a warming from within. Home is a place where I can unplug from the constant demand to be “on,” and reconnect to something quieter, deeper, more essential.
My books. My chair. My place on the sofa. The porch and the huge magnolia. The familiar weight of my own pillow. These are small things, but together they form a landscape of ease. At home, there is less negotiating with things like roads, airports, expectations, and the unknown. There is a gentle predictability that rests the nervous system. It may be the closest thing we have to the original comfort of the womb—a place where we do not have to brace ourselves against the world.
And yet, being away has its own gifts. New environments stretch us. They awaken curiosity, stir imagination, and invite growth. There are insights we only encounter when we step beyond the familiar. But home works differently with our soul. Where the world calls us outward, home calls us inward. It creates the space to reflect, to center, to gather ourselves again. Away, we expand. At home, we integrate. Perhaps that is why it restores us so completely. A full life may require both the courage to leave and the wisdom to return. Because in the end, home is not just where the heart is. It is where the soul is restored.
Spiritual practice: Describe your home as a soul sanctuary.
Self-inquiry: Do you have enough time at home?
Prayer:
Dear God, I pray that we all have a place to call home, not just a house, but a spiritual dwelling. Amen
