Where is home?

I grew up in one country, but spoke another language. Now I live somewhere else. People sometimes ask me which place I call home.

“Home is where my pillow is,” I usually say, but it is much more than that. When I watch films I cry when lost people suddenly find they belong, when runaways return back to loving arms, Une jeune femme en quilibre sur des rails avec des valises la mainwhen estranged families rediscover each other. In real life I too sometimes want to be found.

God said, “I have loved you with an everlasting love. I have drawn you with loving-kindness. I will build you up again.” (Jeremiah 31:3) God opens his arms. He loves right now. No matter where we are in this world, we are home.

The prison of fear

I wish it hadn’t happened, but this thing called fear was planted inside me as a child. Even now it tries to grab a hold of me. It tries to take over.

I can tell you that fear is a prison. hand in jailIt tears away from us the courage to fight back. It makes us powerless. But knowledge of fear, and how it works, doesn’t mean it goes away.

There is only one way I have found to overcome fear. I make a choice. I choose to look at God, not the one who causes fear. I choose to care what God thinks of me, not the opinions of others. I choose to be what God wants me to be, not what others demand.

When I do that, fear disappears.