Home is where the heart is.

I have been home for a week already. It's odd how time goes by so quickly, yet feels like one is stuck in a time warpe of some sort. It lingers on and on, yet spins out of control. Last Tuesday seems like a blur. I had to pack in an instant, bid farewell to my friends, jump on a plane, and next minute it hit me. I was in the air, leaving behind all that was familiar for the past 4 years. University life was now history. My friends are moving on. Nothing will ever be the same again. Yet when I arrived at my parents' home, it felt as if I had never left. But then again, it shouldn't feel strange. This is where the heart is. Like a child feeling content when listening to its mother's heartbeat, this is what home is to me. .

I was supposed to be in Pretoria until mid December, helping an agency with an adoption campaign. However, God had other plans. I had to come home to help my mother recover. She had a Thyroid cancer operation (at the same time as my father). She has had a few complications along the way and has taken longer to recover than him. While he is away on business a few days of the week, I keep my mother company so that the loneliness does not creep in. Some feel sorry for me, for having to sacrifice a great opportunity that could have set my career. I felt so too a few weeks ago. But God was busy preparing my heart for this time. He was making it soft so that when the time came for me to decide between my parents or career, the latter was not an option. I was reminded that it is an honour for a child to take care of their parents. As a recent graduate, I do not have the finances to care financially for my parents, but God has given me the privilege to care for them by serving them. A helping hand can go a long way. It is the thing that brings warmth to the heart.

I trust that this will be a blessed time at home, for home is truly where the heart is.