A place called home

I sometimes feel as though I am swimming in a pool. A pool of forgetfulness. Forgetfulness of dreams, of vision, of who I am and who I am suppose to be. It has been a long day since my last glimpse. A glimpse in the the mind of the Creator at work. At work within me. Within, not the unfeeling graces of His outer workings, but the ones that reconcile me to a place. A place called home, where I take my shoes off and let my hair down. An unguarded resolve to contend for rest and pursuit. A pursuit into the unknown but familiar. Familiar only because of His plan and purposes fulfilled. Recognized by some as strange but desired by all. An awkwardness in the longing but gracefulness in the finding. Like a hidden closet in a house or money in washed jeans, worn out place of pursuit or a recliner broken in by the relaxing heart of steadfastness and clarity. My heart to find this place called home.

-Paula Keck

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