homing in…

This is a shrimpburger with the sides from El’s Drive In in Morehead City, NC.

For most people who grew up along or near North Carolina’s Crystal Coast, El’s shrimpburgers are one of the major food groups.  Sure, other places serve fried shrimp on buns with slaw and ketchup – not like El’s though.

A recent trip Home required a side trip to El’s.  It often does.  I know I’m Home when I’ve been to El’s.

There’s that “yes” sigh and I’m sixteen again.

Other things mean Home to me, too:  where ever my mom and sister are;  driving past the churchyard where my dad taught me to drive that 1972 avocado green Pinto; Ralph and Nancy; and being with other people who’ve always understood how strange I am and still find a way to accept me.

I love the place I call Home now.

I love the people who are in the Life I now call Home.

And there’s no place that That First Home.

How do you know you’re Home?

6 thoughts on “homing in…

  1. Hey Homie :o)

    I know I’m home when ever I get to see and hang out with my HHS Homies.

    So, the next time you’re home, the Shrimp Burgers are on “Me”…


  2. I know I’m home when I’m with loved ones, whereever we are

    I know I’m home when I’m physically at home and the dogs have all settled down … either on “their” couches, loveseats, and/or chairs or on their pillows

    …BTW, that shrimpburger sure looks good!

  3. I know I’m home when I fix myself my favorite foods…generally the ones I ate while growing up. Nothing means home as much as a liverwurst with onion sandwich, a taylor home sandwich, homemade spaghetti and meatballs, or potato pancakes.

    And of course home is much closer if my dad is cooking/fixing my favorite foods for me!

  4. I live with my three children and my parents with whom I truly feel at home.

    I know that I am at home when I trust God and am grateful.

    Jesus says “make your home in me, as I make mine in you.” He invites us into his house of love where reconcilliation, healing and peace reign. Prayer is the way into his house of love – our true home – where we are in communion with God no matter what the external circumstances.

  5. Hickory smoked BBQ at Lex’s BBQ down by the creek. And putting playing cards in the spokes of my bike to make it sound like a motorcycle. Catching lightning bugs in a jar. Those are memories of ‘home’. I don’t dwell on this stuff much at all, but it’s nice to think back sometimes on the good “kid memories” of home. God gives us memories to be sure we always know where we’ve been….and help us with where we’re going.

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