Home, he said I felt like home to him.
My heart a refuge from the storms.
And he felt like home to me too, oh how he felt like home.
But homes built on fault lines come tumbling down.
Flames easily overcome a home made of broken human hearts.
Storms rain down and drown homes built upon unsteady foundations.
And how unsteady is the human heart and how broken is the heart of just one man?
He came and made a home in my heart, my broken & faulty heart.
When my foundations crumbled all around He came and offered me a steady one.
A punctured Hand offered me a refuge, a sure foundation, a home.
A home that will withstand every single flame.
One that does not fall down even in the strongest gale.
No storm could ever overcome this home.
He is my home, His pierced and broken body brought me home to Him.
In His arms I am safe, I am steady, my broken heart is whole and I am home.
He feels like home, He is home. In Him I am steady, my broken heart is whole and I am home.
He feels like home, oh how He feels like home.
He. Is. Home.
By Anna Dickinson
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