A few short weeks ago, we celebrated a Homecoming for two of my children. It's an amazing feeling having them come home. Home. You long for it. You count down the days until they make it back. Home. It has so many connotations. The home you grew up in, the home you create. The place you are born, the place you live. We, my two high school sons and I, usually spend almost 12 hours each day gone from our house for various reasons. Coming home is the best. As soon as I pull in the driveway I feel a sense of enormous relief. We made it. I set down my bag, set down my burdens, and sit down. A cup of tea, a glass of wine and all is well with the world again. That feeling of unwinding and letting go. It is the best. It would be that way for the college-age kids too. Just as I pull into the driveway every night so relieved, so it would be for them, exponentially so, when they pulled in to our house after months away. Just before the kids came home, I was at church, another home for me. I
balancing life, work, and family