Home

They say “home is where the heart is”.
But I prefer the Ram Dass quote:
“We’re all just walking each other home”.
Home in this context
contains so many layers.

It can be a geographical place.
A house.
The town we grew up in.
The place we live now.

My yoga mat feels like home,
as does my campsite
at Assateague State Park
where I make a home every summer
for three weeks in my tent.

Home also lives inside of us.
Like when we stop showing up in the world
in ways that others want us to,
and finally figure out who we are
underneath all those layers of expectations.
When we finally come home to ourselves.

Home can also be a place of belonging.
Not where we edit ourselves to fit in,
to be included in some group
we aspire to be a part of.
But the place we can show up
as we are,
with the way we dress,
or wear our hair,
with our beliefs and paradigms
about the world,
and discover we are among others
who see us,
and love what they see.
When we spend time in that community,
we often say,
“I’m at home here”.

Home can also be the place
we’re headed to,
on the other side
of this human journey.
Or the place we came from,
before we inhabited human clothes.

Home… so many layers.

I also appreciate how Ram Dass
reminds me
that while we might be pilgrims
on the way,
others around us
are also on the way.
We do not walk alone.

“We are all just walking each other home.”
Some slide up next to us
for a season on our journey.
Others walk beside us for decades,
maybe co-creating a home with us,
as we also find our way
to the home within us.
In this season,
I’m walking many paths home.
Since Dec 2022 I’ve been
living in temporary shelters.
These beautiful spaces
offered me lovely way-stations.
Peaceful.
Quiet.
Necessary.
They’ve given me time:
    ~ To discern what will,
       and will not be,
       part of my life going forward.
    ~ To release assumptions
       about my work,
       community and relationships.
    ~ To grow into new gifts,
       and practice familiar skills
       in new ways.

I’ve discovered that my life emerging from the fire
needs a very different home
than the one that burned down.
Smaller.
More intimate.
Retreaty.
A place for solitude and contemplation.
More connected to nature,
allowing me to live as close to being outside
as I possibly can.
A shelter for my soul.

My work home has also been disrupted.
Having stepped back
from the non-profit I founded 11 years ago,
and between long term church calls,
I’m listening for what comes next.

This gracious faith community at Lord of Life
has welcomed me into temporary work.
What a delight to come alongside
you beautiful pilgrims during a Sabbath season.

You have welcomed my Sunday reflections…
on Sabbath,
and how Spirit grows fruit in us
that tastes like love, peace, kindness,
gentleness, patience, and generosity.
I find myself at home with you
as we gather for worship outside
beneath the sanctuary of the trees.

This Summer I stood next to one God’s pilgrims
as she lay in a hospital bed.
A former nurse,
now the patient,
realized her body, wracked by pain
would no longer shelter her soul.
“I’m ready to go home,”
she told her daughter,
peacefully confident
of the home she was heading towards.
Her daughter,
grieving,
respectful,
and trusting her mother’s wisdom,
sang her home,
as her mother’s presence left her body,
returning to the Love,
who had birthed her into this human realm.

Like Ram Dass says,
“We are walking each other home!”

And much to my surprise,
Spirit has led me into a new kind of “home” work.
I passed my realtor exam this Summer,
and now look forward to coming alongside others
as they traverse the sacred space
between leaving one home,
and searching for another.

“We’re all just walking each other home,”
Ram Dass said.

Indeed we are.

Who and what shelters you?
What home are you walking towards in this season?
Who’s walking with you?

Shalom,
Pastor Mary