Home.

I miss Charlotte already, and I'm still here. Over the past year and a half, it has become my.... home. Deeply. Engrained. My potted plant has found and put roots [reference Bekah]. It's the heartbeat of me. I love my home. I love my Charlotte. I love my Carolinas.

I heard a comment this week, "I can't believe you're not coming home for longer." But my immediate reply and peace was, "But this is my home." Charlotte is my home. Charlotte is me. It's the place that I love. It has been solace for me, safety, peace, growth, protection, trust, faith, space, love, cocoon. Home.

I am blessed. By this love, this depth, this peace, this presence of my soul that loves and is deeply attached to the soil and the people and the church and the family I have here. Home.

Blessed. Roots. Love. Comfort. Home.

~~~

Interesting enough, last year I listened to the Beth Moore's Believing God CDs at this time, and it was about your promised land, etc... And today, I was in the kitchen cooking for visiting Taylor friends and listening to the teachings again and thinking -- wow, this is my promised land... and I know it and feel it and have such depth of peace about it. My place at Porter Ridge is my promised land, my inheritance, my purpose. What affirmation - of belief, of faith, of scripture, of my purpose, of the Lord. This land of inheritance is.... Home.