Where is home?
Is it lost
in the heart's sad memory,
a sanctuary taken
by material change?
Can you damage it,
abuse it, lose it—
or can it be seen
indestructible?
I had a house,
sunny and glad,
that then was shaken, taken
out of helpless human hands.
But I found a promise there,
beautifully guarded. Right where
my torment was, God spoke these words,
loving, full of light,
and, I knew, exactly right:
The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want. Ps. 23:1 .
Every morning, I awoke with prayer,
these words filling this heart
which had felt such despair.
I listened and learned
Love had made me a home;
I could not be lost or alone.
God-built, my home is spiritual—secure
as heaven. I was restored and assured.
I dwell in the house of the Lord
for ever. Ps. 23:6 .
