Home is Where the Heart Is

This is a tribute to our departed mother, but when Dad first wrote this poem before her death, it was for a brother's passing. He intended that the names or pronouns in the last verse be substituted to give tribute to any loved one who is "promoted to glory." We have included it today since Mom passed away 21 years ago, on Mother's Day, May 12, 1996.









Home is where the heart is,
we sometimes hear it said;
the place where we expect to find
a roof, a meal, a bed.
But there is more—a motel too
or even barracks may
accommodate our body’s needs
and serve quite comfortably.

Our hearts are not content until
some loved ones share our lot
and we commune in deeds and words—
yes, suffering, like as not.
It’s in living for each other
that our souls are gratified
and if we’d have a super home
then Christ must there abide.

How soon things change. Our loved ones go
and leave an empty place.
Then heaven’s attaction on us grows,
that new home beyond space.
Where separations cannot mar
our glad and peaceful state.
Where toil and tears and pain are past
and glorious joys await.

Our mother has gone home and we
will follow her ere long.
She’ll greet us on the other side
where we’ll unite in song
of praise to Him who died, arose,
has gone a place to prepare.
We’re going home, where our heart is,
rich fellowship to share!

fpn / 91