There are a few different types of “home”, I’ve decided.

There is, of course, the home where you live most all of your days. The place where life happens, from the mundane to the marvelous, with the people you love most in the world. Then, there is the home of your youth, where your parents reside and where you were molded and shaped (in my case, with a lot of love) into the person you’ve become. There is the home of your spouse’s parents; the place where you visit and discover, little by little, the threads that make up the tapestry of their lives. It is also here that, if you are among the extremely blessed (as am I), you become one of those threads and are embraced for the color you add. Finally, there is your spiritual home, your church, where you connect with a body of believers with whom you walk out your faith.

After my own Christmas pilgrimage to Texas, I’ve been mulling over the concept of “home” and what makes it so important. What makes each place “home”? All at once, in a plane hovering above the earth at 30,000 feet, it hit me. The common denominator is the fact that in each place, Jesus is there.

He was there in the beautiful decor and the majestic Christmas trees (TREES!). He was there in the food prepared with care and love, the packages chosen and wrapped with the recipient in mind, the warm cider…the warm hugs. He was there when my parents read the Christmas Story to my wide-eyed nephews, as the rest of us drank it in. He was there when my girls set aside life-long competition and petty arguments, in favor of treating each other like sisters and, best of all, finding they enjoyed it.

He was there when we all sniffled our way through a heartwarming movie. He was there when my husband and I opened our gifts to each other and realized that, not only had we wrapped them the same, but they WERE the same! He was there when both girls, now grown, curled up with me on the sofa like when they were small. He was there when all of our parents teared up when we said goodbye.

I’ve been praying that God would show me something during this Christmas that would cause me to remember it for years to come. As always, He was faithful. He opened my eyes to the Gift that makes home, “home”. It’s a picture of what’s to come as I travel this road toward a certain mansion in the sky. After all, it’s not just a house, it’s a home.

Jesus is there.

In my Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.
John 14:2-3 KJV