June 3.

Memories of dancing and laughing and watching dear friends enter a covenant reflecting His and good dad conversations spin in my head this morning. In a secular coffee shop songs sing above praising Him. Compassion Sponsorship is advertised on the shirt of the guy behind the counter. My plans this afternoon consist of spending time with Him and my church family.

The last three weeks are tainted with waste and disbelief. There is eternal loss because of them and shame I distributed on heavenly Things.

But today, He mercies are new. And today as I sit in the corner of a coffee shop that sings His songs with a big window view of the trees in the courtyard hiding the door to the breakaway office, the engine room that feeds thousands, He has given me grace to SEE. Slowly I begin to See. Today there is grace and I am home. Today, in this coffee shop, with His music, in Texas, I am home. Today, in His mercy, I am home.

I am home for the first time in I can't remember. And as I walk in the door, the familiar safety and comfort that allows me to just be sinks in as the weights I have been carrying slip off my shoulders. I am not alone in the world. He has not left me Fatherless. He is a God of households. And I am His.

So many things I want to pray about and read and process and speak with Him about.

But as I enter in, as the stillness of Home, the familiarity of it, the belonging of it, sinks in, I am torn. Because I don't want to rush. And I reflect and see what I have missed the last few weeks. And I am thankful to be here now. And I don't want to rush. I just want to know.

Be still and know. He. Is. God.

And I am home.