I lost my home - my haven, security and center. Marble floors and crown moldings. Gone. And me, left in pieces. I fled to California, depression and cookie dough became my best friends.
My new reality - I belonged nowhere. Broken, desiring wholeness and longing for home. After 12 years in exile, I returned.
My second new reality: I could come back but I could not come home.
Where is home? Is it possible to create home wherever I go?
