During the four school years I was  in college, I  made the seven hour journey from Jackson, KY to Summertown, TN about sixteen times. Being directionally challenged, I relied on my gps, yet sometimes even that failed me. I can't count the times I've had to turn around or found myself in driving through towns and neighborhoods where I didn't know a soul. Even though I've become more familiar with the route over the years and can now make the trip without my gps, I still get a sense of relief and excitement when I'm finally driving down the roads and through the neighborhoods that I've recognized since childhood. The feeling gets stronger as I turn onto Buie road, the country road with no lines and no speed limit signs, the road I learned to drive on as a teen. I could probably traverse every winding inch of that road with my eyes closed, although I wouldn't dare to try. I enter the tunnel of trees, pass three familiar mailboxes, and turn right onto a gravel driveway, parking my car while being serenaded by a chorus of barking dogs. I smile as I get out of the car, greet the cat and over-sized weanie dog, and make my way to the steps of our double-wide, where my little sister is waiting for a hug.

Home. Just that one word can trigger a world of emotion. It brings different memories and associations for different people. For me home is a place where I belong.

There's nothing really special about my home. It's just a double-wide trailer on a small plot of land adjoining the property of my grandparents. Yet when I think of how vast the world is, how full of strangers and unfamiliar places it is, I realize how blessed I am to have one little insignificant corner of the world that I can call home.

I can't always be there, can't always have that sense of security and belonging in the world, yet that little corner of the world isn't my only home. There's another place where I belong, a place I never have to leave. That place is with a person who cares for me. Everything around me may be strange and uncertain, yet in Jesus' arms, I am safe, I am home.

Sometimes I want to see Him, sometimes this world gets old. And I realize that little corner is not my real home. Someday I'll finally make it there and it won't be barking dogs who will greet me but an angel choir and all saints, heroes and martyrs I've read about. But when I see Him, when I see Jesus, that's when I'll know I'm home. Will you come with me? Let's walk with Jesus, until we're finally home.