What if I told you that one of the deepest forms of human sovereign.
It's not heartbreak.
Not rejection.
Not loss.
But never having felt at home.
Perhaps you grew up inside a house,
A roof above your head.
Walls around you.
A bedroom.
Eggie-chan A place people called home.
And yet,
Something inside of you Never fully rested.
You learned how to sleep.
But not how to feel safe.
You learned how to survive.
But not how to relax.
You learned how to be strong.
But not how to be held.
Maybe you grew up in chaos?
Maybe they was yelling.
Maybe there was silence.
Maybe there was criticism?
Maybe there was lack of predictability.
Maybe there was emotional distance.
Or perhaps there were simply nobody available?
To truly see you.
And because of that,
Your nervous system learned a lesson.
A lesson that no child should ever have to learn.
Stay alert.
Stay prepared.
Stay strong.
Stay ready.
So you became strong,
Strong enough to carry on sadness.
Strong enough to wipe your own tears.
Strong enough to become the adult.
Long before childhood.
Was finished.
And everyone admired your strength.
But few saw the cost.
Because underneath every layer of strength Was a heart still searching for home?
My child,
I see your pain.
I see the tears that nobody noticed The disappointments nobody understood the loneliness hidden behind the smile.
The moment.
You convinced yourself.
You did not need anyone.
I see all of it.
And you are not alone.
Because today we're not searching for home Today we are remembering it Take a slow breath in and gently let it go again.
Receiving.
Probably you soon.
Notice the support beneath you.
This year.
Deep breath.
The floor Notice the weight of your body.
Notice that gravity is holding you without effort.
For this moment.
It is nowhere to go.
Nothing to prove.
Nothing to become.
Nothing to fix.
You are allowed to simply exist bring awareness to your forehead Soften.
Eyes rest.
Ja,
Release.
Don't soften.
Necklace doll.
Shoulders drop.
How many years have those shoulders been caring survival?
How many years have they prepared for disappointment before it arrives?
Allow them to rest Perhaps you spent years looking for home.
In relationships,
In friendships.
In achievements.
In success.
In being needed.
In being chosen.
Perhaps every new connection carried the same hidden hope.
Maybe this time Maybe this person?
Maybe this place.
.
.
Maybe this accomplishment Maybe now I will finally feel home And for a moment,
Sometimes you did.
But eventually something happened.
People change.
People laugh.
Circumstances shifted Life unfolded.
And once again the feeling disappeared.
Not because you failed.
Not because you were unworthy.
But because human beings were never designed to become your ultimate home.
Only God can carry that role.
People get tired.
People become afraid.
People leave.
People misunderstand.
People disappoint.
But God remains.
The same yesterday.
The same today.
The same tomorrow Place one hand over your heart feel the warmth beneath your palms feel the light Feel the quiet courage.
That has carried you this far.
There is a strength inside your pain.
Not because suffering is beautiful.
Not because wounds are desirable.
But because you survived.
You're still here.
Still breathing.
Still hoping.
Still loving Still seeking truth Still seeking God.
Every scar tells a story.
And every story tells us something important You made it through.
The pain did not have the final word.
The betrayal did not have the final word.
The disappointment did not have the final word.
The loneliness did not have the final word.
Because you are here.
Imagine standing before God.
Exactly as you are No mask.
No performance No explanations.
No need to justify yourself.
Just you.
Notice something surprising?
God is not disappointed.
God is not keeping score.
God is not waiting for perfection.
Instead,
His arms are open.
The same arms that carried you through every storm.
The same presence that never abandoned you.
Even when you believed you had been abandoned.
The Abyssal Mithra.
Lord,
You have been our dwelling place.
Throughout all generations.
Not our occasional refuge.
Not our emergency shelter.
Our dwelling place.
Our home.
Allow yourself to rest there.
Allow yourself to be held.
Perhaps exhaustion is not coming from life itself.
Perhaps exhaustion comes from carrying what was never yours to carry.
Trying to predict every outcome trying to protect yourself from every possibility.
Trying to control what belongs to God Notice how heavy that feels.
And imagine setting it down just for this moment.
The future,
Settle down.
The unanswered questions set them down.
The pressure.
Set it down The fear settled down.
Trusting instead of controlling receiving instead of forcing allowing instead of resisting.
What if peace is not something you create?
What if peace is something you allow?
Perhaps the deepest human longing.
Is not success.
Not certainty.
Not a human.
Not even love.
Perhaps the deepest longing is home.
A place where nothing needs to be proven.
A place where nothing needs to be earned.
A place where you can finally exhale And perhaps that place has always been gone.
Because home is not always a place.
Sometimes home is the moment you stop running from yourself and discover that God never left.
Never.
Not during the chaos not during the heartbreak.
Not during their loneliness.
Not during the confusion.
He was there.
And he is here.
So rest now Rest deeply.
Rest completely.
You're held your love.
You belong.
And no matter where life takes you There is always one place you can return to.
The presence of God.
You are huge.
Your dwelling place.
Your home.
And let these final words settle gently into your heart.
I do not need to carry everything.
I do not need to know everything.
I do not need to control everything.
I am him.
I am love.
I'm safe in the hunt.
And I am already home.
