Moved on Monday

I spent the morning coming to the slow realization that I had not much of value to report today....until I came across the following:
http://www.ragamuffinsoul.com/2010/05/save-us-from-these-comforts-dannys-story/

The bit Carlos Whittaker typed below the video was so moving: 
If you listen carefully at the end you hear me saying this to Danny.
“Keep trying to make it man.”
He looked me square in the eye…cocked his head sideways with a confused look on his face…and said,
“Trying to make it? No man. I ain’t trying to make it…I’m making it. Jah puts His soldiers everywhere. Jah says, Yea though you walk through the valley of the shadow of death… So He places some of us, in that valley.”
A homeless man with his worldly goods stuffed into a plastic grocery bag.  He's making it.  He knows exactly where he is and he embraces it.  I am humbled.

The words which originally attracted me to the song are the following chorus:

"Save us from these comforts

Break us of our need for the familiar

Spare us any joy that's not of You

And we will worship You."

As he notes in his blog, these are actually words from the Puritans - but how much more they apply in today's world!  Lately, I especially find myself needing the familiar.  I chatted on the phone with my friend P last week as she walked her dog.  What a comfort it was to imagine being with the two of them!  Facebook keeps me connected to so many folks, and it, too, is a comfort.  There are lots of nice people here in Germany, and I've been told, "You've got tons of friends here - you just haven't met them all yet."  Yes, I'm sure that's true, but my homesick heart keeps insisting that there's just no place like home.

Is that really how God wants me to feel?  I think not.  Home will only be found in the center of His will.  For me, that's a constant learning experience.  It's so easy to hear home in my mother's voice; to feel home when my arms are wrapped around my girl; to taste home when I bake a batch of peanut blossoms for my niece E; to see home on Thomas Drive or Sawmill Road or in a sandy pew at PICC or Garden City Chapel; to be home as I create a nest for Sir when he comes in weary from his ministry. 
What's not easy is to realize that all of this, all I cling to so tightly, is not really Home.  Home is where I'm headed ultimately....Home is where God sends me to serve Him in the meantime...may I be willing to learn,  joyfully, the truth of  "there's no place like Home."