No Place Like Home

     I'll never know how he found the storage compartment; the panel was flush with the floor. He got his chubby little hand under the latch and opened the door. Before I could react, he was fishing packets of dried noodles from below and tossing them on the living room carpet. My hostess laughed, threw the noodles back overboard and placed a rug over the trap door. I was visiting Lake Biwa, Japan with my 9-month old son.

Please open the trap door....I want the noodles!

     When I arrived, I lumbered through customs with a car seat, stroller, baby and  suitcase. I was delighted to see my friend's husband just outside of immigration. We divided my luggage and proceeded to take a bus, a train and a taxi to their village.

Gracious hosts and happy travelers

     Once there, I decided to give the baby a bath. The bathtub was sunk in the floor. While I started the bath, my son set out to explore the wonders of  unsecured household cleaners. (They are decorated with inviting pastel colors). While I placed the cleaners above eye level, he hightailed it to the edge of the tub and promptly fell in. He was fine and crying loudly. I was fine and swearing loudly. I finished his bath, put him in pajamas and snuggled him into his futon. I collapsed on the couch. My friend brought me a beautiful little glass of plum wine and said, "you need this." I felt cared for and loved. I left with wonderful memories of  lake sunsets, temples and my friend Penny's nurturing. How could I be so far from home and yet at home? Because, home is not a place, home is a connection.
     My Dad passed away suddenly. One of the things I remember is sitting on the steps drinking a cup of tea that my friend made me. She sat by my side and spoke when I spoke. She showed me how to be present for the grieving.  I recently visited my old home in Utah. The mountain views are dazzling, but it was the welcome of friends that made the place truly beautiful.
    John 14:2 says ; "In my Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you. For I go to prepare a place for you." The heart of the Father is for all people. When I think of home as heart space instead of real estate, I believe that I am closer to the true definition. To be Christ-like is to make heart connections when it is easy AND when it is challenging. In The Wizard of Oz, Dorothy wanted to return home. She didn't understand that she had the power all along.

      The highest self knows that without love we are mere "clanging cymbals" (1 Corinthians 13:1) When we return to our heart's center and connect with others, we get a glimpse of heaven. Home is not a physical structure, it is an intangible one. The philosopher Pliny the Elder said, " Home is where the heart is." Your home is a mobile one and the world needs just such travelers.