Whether fractured or new,
What makes a home a home
Is the love found in you,
And what love is there in another!
Home, gift of place and of hearth—
Special memories, a family to start—
Yet not just family but self in other
And other in self.
Home, blessed home, where life starts,
Sacred space, sanctified with new life.
Life nurtured from womb to heart
And heart to vocation,
Nursery of the Faith of the Ages!
Blessings are found even if far,
Far from where the love starts,
Found in distance and nearness,
Found with love and generosity of self.
Gift of self gives a home its start,
But more is needed for the flame to keep its warmth,
Fuel for the sacrifice of self in other
And other in self, kindling for the beautiful warmth of the Light.
The Wood of the sacrifice must be center
For the blessings of joy and of mercy to enter,
But more—much more—burning hearts desire
Not of own but all of other than self,
Of other in Christ.
Love shapes the way
To heart and home,
To the warmth of the Light,
And guides one's way back home.
Within it though wistful,
Memory's joys play sight
And in them a warmth of heart
Brings back to mind Love Divine, our soul's delight.
Home finds its way,
To hearts our very own,
Not simply for a longing, of where we've been this day
And before—but for places where we yet go.
For even since our first day we have known
This place, our true place—
Heaven, this is our true Home.
Let us return Home.
