Where Does Your Heart Live?

My heart lives in a neat, gray condo so warmly decorated inside that you can almost smell something delicious baking in the oven every time you visit, and feel the embrace of family greeting you after a long car ride home.

My heart lives in an old, Victorian brick condo with twinkling strings of lights and raspberry-pink walls just down the street from cute shops and fun places to eat. The smell of coffee and the sound of laughter drift through open windows as sisters enjoy a day out together.

My heart lives in a sweetly-decorated turquoise house with white kitchen cabinets, high wood walls, and music floating lazily in the background; Bible verses adorn the walls and toy trains chug merrily along plastic tracks.

My heart lives in a home where joy and trust in the Lord fill every room and every space, along with a sense of belonging and the familiar bond of love that comes from impromptu piano recitals, surprise birthday parties, and knowing you have a second family to run to when the world falls apart.

My heart lives in a wild place where deep-green pine trees grow in stands, loons mournfully call to each under sparkling stars, and clear water shimmers in the morning sun. I see an older man with a salt-and-pepper beard striding up the stairs with a fresh catch of fish and a young blonde-haired boy following close behind asking questions as rapidly as possible. Adventure stirs in every breath I take.