Home

Yesterday I had a conversation with a friend about the idea of home when they came to visit. To me, there's really no where I consider home. The definition itself is a little blurred. I would say that I'm born and raised in Hong Kong, grew up in Canada, but I recognize none as my home.

As my roommate and I talked about storing treasures in heaven. I start to ponder and think...

Where is home?

 The idea of home is too vague, or that I decide to scrap it all together. I've lived with wonderful people in the past, and yet it's really nothing more than a house/shelter to me. Sometimes I'd like to think it's just because I see heaven as my home, but as you know...for that I am doubtful too.

Then I remembered something I read a few days ago...

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” John 14:1-4

Then in verse 6 is the famous verse: " Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."

Maybe after all...it doesn't matter where we call home. Maybe the place we call home is as simple as where we find God so that we can be in His presence.

Any thoughts to enlighten me? :)