Being houseless is one thing; being unseen and lonely is another thing altogether.
There’s more than one way to be homeless.
Have You Ever Been Lonely?
Have you ever had something to say, something so important that your heart would burst if you didn’t share it?
Have you ever wanted someone to listen?
And has your hidden heart ever cracked when the ears that mattered most were too full of other noise to take in your treasure?
Have you ever revealed your work to the only people who matter, and have they ever simply glanced and grunted?
Have you ever simply died a little inside?
Have you ever stood on center stage with a hundred pairs of eyes looking at you and a hundred pairs of hands clapping foryou and wondered how so many people could think they know you and not really know you at all?
Have you ever watched one, lone, radiant autumn leaf slowly twirl and spin its way to the cooling ground?
Have you ever been that leaf?
Have you ever felt like your whole life was twirling and spinning downward and you were falling alone?
Have you ever watched a falling leaf and ached with the loneliness of it?
Have you ever wished someone would see you or welcome you or hold you or hug you or protect you or defend you or touch you or believe in you?
This is being human.
And the quiet quest to become unlonely is human,too.
The moment in which we are finally seen and unlonely finally happens is when we are home.
A house and a home are not the same thing. A house is four walls and a roof and a shower, a little bit of warmth on a cold night and a soft place to lay our weary heads. A house keeps the weather at bay. But home. Home keeps the loneliness at bay.
When Home Happens…
Home is not a building. Home is not the town on your birth certificate or the town on your driver’s license or the birthplace of your ancestors or the dwelling place of your living relatives. Indeed, home is not a place at all.
Home is an experience.
Home is a moment in which grace happens to us—a wrinkle in time in which we are really, truly seen and surprised by a flashboom of acceptance and belonging and connection. Home is the space within us and around us that expands when we are known deeply and embraced completely by grace.
Home can happen anywhere.
Home happens when someone looks past our ugly and into our beautiful.
Home happens when we make a disaster of things and no one flinches.
Home happens when someone cares for us enough to make us feel rare instead of strange.
Home happens when we can be inconvenient and still have a place to belong.
Home happens when someone names the good things we are.
Home happens in bedtime routines and family rituals, in the embrace of a friend and when two strangers honor the humanity in each other.
Home happens at the end, when our bodies are failing us but the love surrounding doesn’t.
Home can happen in a moment of silence.
Home can happen when the wind through the trees feels like a holy embrace.
Home can happen when we learn how to love who we are.
Home can happen anywhere, because grace can happen anywhere and the secret to home is as simple and as sublime as this:home is where the grace is.
In the presence of grace, we can trust we aren’t a single leaf falling lonely; we are part of a great shower of autumn leaves torn loose by a mighty wind, and we are all falling together.
Home can happen when we learn how to love who weare.
Home can happen anywhere, because grace canhappen anywhere and the secret to home is as simple and as sublime as this:home is where the grace is.
In the presence of grace, we can trust we aren’ta single leaf falling lonely; we are part of a great shower of autumn leavestorn loose by a mighty wind, and we are all falling together.