I find myself wondering if I have been running away all this time. Have I been looking for bigger, better things? Have I achieved any of these things. Now, whilst Sundays are often spent in church, reflecting the meaning of life and the maker of it, I find myself reflecting too.
Is it possible that I have been searching for home? And what defines home? Is home where you were born, grew up, moved to, moved to or moved to? Or shall I write that cheesy truth on all my forms, and admit that really, home is where the heart is?
Gorgeous shack (home) from Pips Photography