Belonging

The last 12 days have been a whirlwind for me.  It was one of those vacations you always dream about.

Wendy’s dad and step mom live on the island of Trinidad (off the coast of Venezuela) and, for Christmas, sent us a trip to come see them.  It was a week on a tropical island.

It was warm beaches, tree covered mountains, waving palm trees, exotic birds, crawling crabs, interesting food and good times with family.  It was really, everything you could want in a vacation.

So why did I come back to Hillsboro?

The accommodations were as nice as my home.  The food was fantastic.  The company was great.

After our trip to Trinidad, my family came back and I went to Michigan on a quick business meeting.  Flying back I thought a lot about why I was coming back.  The reason is simple

Home.

Home is where I belong.  I came in, made coffee and sat on the back porch with Wendy.  My children came and we talked.  I sat in my own chairs, smelled my own kitchen, laid down on my own bed.  It was where I belong.

Then Wendy reminded me, “It is Tuesday night, are we going to go to Share Group, or would you rather stay home?”  I didn’t even give it a thought, “Let’s go.”  A couple hours later, we were sitting around a room with our Share Group—laughing, telling stories, drinking coffee.  I realized again, the reason I came back.

Home.

I am so excited about the new emphasis and push we are putting on Share Groups at Singing Hills.  I can’t wait to expose a whole new group of people to what I felt when I came back from vacation.

Home.

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One Response to Belonging

  1. Carol Samples says:

    Yes, home, says it all. Every time I come home, I feel loved and relaxed as soon as I get in the door.

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