Home is where...?

The heart is?  The heart's in my chest, so I guess I'm home wherever I'm at.

Not exactly true, but this hotel room - feels a little bit like a home.

I sit on this couch, watch MTV documentary shows about people losing weight, pull out an old teleplay to rework, cook myself some dinner in the kitchen, believe in God's timing, and have spontaneous, celebratory dance parties to Demi Lovato's "Who's That Boy?" with Nina, and I've found my content place.

And it's one of those days that you review in your head and realize on paper, you didn't really do much (went to two post offices and a UPS store in search of elusive P.O. boxes and sat in 405-S traffic), but in all actuality, feel like you accomplished a good deal today.  Ideas flowing and progress inching forward, and it feels good - knowing that something was done today.

And knowing that God's got it all under control feels the best.  There's not a worry I have in the world.  Just enjoying life - with its ups, downs, challenges, and everything else in between, because I know that if I do my part, then He is definitely going to do His.

So it's good.  Even with my bum car and my period, it's good.  Joy comes from the inside, and I'm basking in all the joy I've got.  And I'm at home, because my heart's in me and Jesus is in my heart, and hey, this is life right here.