Over the years, I’ve lived here, there, and few places in between. I love where I grew up, and I’ve appreciated where I’ve resided. Yet, as I visit from afar these places are not quite the same. Things, milieus, change over time. Seven months ago marked another stout changeover from one pad to another. Rather than taking me across country the move deposited me across town. My old home became just a house. My new house is gradually becoming a home. It takes time to adjust. However, after adjusting, and even feeling grateful, comfort is relative. Frankly, when transitions stretch until they’re settled, and you find the time to view things in a pragmatic light, a house, any house, is just a house. “Home” is in the heart of worship.
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Tessais a storyteller, and a transcript editor. She's also a Romans 8:28 kind of Jewish girl ... RETURN MY HEART
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