It’s a pinkish-gray morning as the sun peaks over the sea. Seagulls spread their wings in flight over the ocean. I stand tall on a mountain of sand with my toes snuggling the grains. I take a deep breath of salty air, “Home,” I breathe out. It’s been a long while since I’ve been in my childhood land. The chilly water beckons me to play. So in I go as a little girl fully grown. I run into the waves, how they embrace me like a long-lost friend. I swim out, reaching my arms as far as I can, I grab the open water in my hands. My feet kick and move me forward in a graceful dance. I feel alive!
For years I worked and played upon the water. It became a way of life. From the moment my babies were born, I placed their tiny bodies in the peaceful sea and watched joyfully as they wiggled and moved. I taught them to swim and dance in the sea, to build sand castles and at times I’d bury their little feet and play hide and seek. The day came when we were to move to a place where there was no ocean. My heart is sad on some days. I often dream of the sea when I’m in the mountains among the aspens. I close my eyes as the wind blows and I hear the rustling of the leaves making the sound of the ocean. “Home,” My words whisper again.
I am learning to make a new home where no ocean can be seen. I sit at night and watch the fireflies dance to the beat of my heart. I gaze up at the same moon and the same stars that once laid their reflections on the water, now look down and shine upon my face. I smile, “Home… I am home.”
Home is where I take myself, and the ones I love and sprinkle my heart around the porch and through the front door. It’s the place where I find the colors I love and weave a tapestry of joy, peace, and love. Home is where I find myself among the books and paintings. Home is where I’m on my knees just praying. Home is where I sit once again and find true peace within.
Because it doesn’t matter be it land or sea, heaven is really Home for me.
His Mercy is Alive,