At home

I spent the whole of today moving out of one house into another, something which I've done a lot of in the past three months. 

First I left my house in September and moved into a neighbouring unit, then two months later I packed up to go to Jakarta for a few days, from Jakarta I went to Singapore, from Singapore I went to Australia, and back to Singapore, after which I went to Kuala Lumpur and back again. Then I came back to Dili, slept for two days in another unit because we had visitors. All this while I was pretty much living out of my backpack. Then I moved back into my house next door for about two weeks - and today, I moved again. All this moving around made me think about Jesus who had no place to lay His head...

What makes a house a home? What does it take to feel "at home"? 

Home alone

Silence is the door by which you enter,

Solitude, the place we meet,

Surrender, the posture in which I find you,

And these words, cords by which I cling to you.