Musings of My Heart 💖Home Isn't a Place
Finding joy in the places love has called home...
Do you ever just want to go home?
I do.
Lately I've been thinking about home in a way that surprised me. Not just the home I grew up in, but the home I'm still waiting for.
When I think about my future home, I think about Heaven. And the more I've thought about it, the more I've realized that home has never really been about a location for me. It's always been about people. It's about a feeling.
The home in my future and the home in my past share something remarkable. Both are wrapped in love. Both are places where I imagine complete acceptance, safety, security, peace, and above all else... joy.
When I think about Heaven, I think about seeing my parents again. My grandparents. Friends and family who have already gone before me. And of course, my best friend since I was two years old... Jesus.
Some days I almost feel like part of my heart already lives there. Not because I've been there, but because so many of the people I love already are.
Maybe that's why I long for it so deeply.
Then my thoughts drift backward instead of forward.
I think about the house where I spent my teenage years and my early adulthood. I can still picture the sunlight coming through the windows in the morning. I smile when I remember making my bed every day because, in our house, that was simply what you did.
I remember studying. Sitting down to meals with my parents. The conversations that bounced between laughter and serious discussions. The feeling that no matter what happened outside those walls, there was love waiting inside.
There was security.
There was peace.
There was joy.
Of course, when you're young, you don't always recognize how precious those ordinary moments are. Like every teenager, I dreamed about growing up and having my own place someday. There were moments when the rules felt restrictive, and I couldn't wait to have complete independence.
Now, years later, I sometimes sit alone in a place of my own and realize just how much I miss those ordinary days.
Funny how life teaches us what was truly valuable.
One of the greatest gifts I have is that those memories are still with me. They're what I call my Visual Joy Postcards. I can pull them out anytime my heart needs them. They're snapshots of ordinary moments that became extraordinary simply because they were filled with love.
I also realize not everyone has memories like that.
That isn't something I take for granted.
It was a tremendous blessing, and perhaps it's becoming more unusual than we realize.
I remember sitting at the piano for hours, completely content. I remember light pouring into the house. I remember feeling safe.
When I picture Heaven, I suppose I naturally imagine many of those same feelings. I know it won't be exactly the same. None of us really knows what awaits us there.
But I imagine light.
I imagine peace.
I imagine laughter.
I imagine overwhelming joy.
Some people talk about the mansions they'll have in Heaven. They wonder what their homes will look like or what they'll possess.
Honestly?
That has never mattered much to me.
If Heaven gave me a mansion, that's wonderful. If it gave me a hammock under a beautiful tree, I'd be just as happy.
Because for me, home has never been about the house.
It's always been about who is there.
The older I get, the less attached I become to possessions. Even here on Earth, I find myself caring less and less about owning things and more about sharing life with people I love.
Perhaps that's one of the quiet gifts that comes with age. We slowly begin separating what has value from what simply has a price.
So today, my heart has simply been thinking about home.
The one I came from.
The one I'm headed toward.
And the beautiful realization that, maybe all along, home was never a place at all.
Maybe home has always been love. ❤️
Join the Conversation
What does home mean to you today?
I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Some of my favorite conversations begin there, and I read every one.
Continue the Journey
Paid subscribers receive Letters from Istanbul, my ongoing memoir series inspired by the years I spent living in Turkey.
If you’d like to wander the streets of Istanbul with me, meet unforgettable characters, and discover the joys, surprises, and lessons waiting around the next corner, I’d love to have you along.
Your subscription makes it possible for me to keep writing these stories and creating work that helps people find joy in unexpected places.
Until next time, may you find a little more joy in the ordinary.
— Deronda
The Joy Ambassador | Architect of Joy




