Are You Heading Home?

"Are you heading home?" The nice man sitting next to me on the plane asked me. It's a simple question, really. And yet, I stutter, "uh...well...no...not anymore...."

He just kind of smiles and waits, knowing that there has to be a longer answer to such an easy question.

How do we know when we're going home? In a time when people are likely to live in several different homes, much less different states, what makes a home?

With my family mostly in one state, friends in many others, and my own house in still another, I have wondered from time to time where my home is.

Coming back from my trip to Los Angeles, I have realized that home is more than a place. I came home to my friends, my church family, my dog, and my bed (is there anything better than your own bed after you've been traveling?). For a while, I resisted calling this place home. Although I can now happily say, "I am home."

I choose to make friends. I choose to develop relationships. I choose to know other people and let them know me. That's what makes a place a home.

The old saying goes, "Home is where the heart is." Maybe a better one would say, "Home is where you are known." Home is the place where people know and love you, the real you.

My answer to the man on the plane was actually right. I had left West Virginia (home) and had stopped in Houston (home) on my way to LA (home). I was heading home and leaving home at the same time.

I'm glad to be home.