Home is somewhere where you are loved unconditionally. It starts out as where you live with your parents and any brothers and sisters. It might be where you live with your husband and your own children. It might even be where you come to after a busy day and find a dog ecstatic to see you. If there is no unconditional love, then it is not really home but just a dwelling or a residence.
Being homeless is not only sleeping on the street or in a ditch, it is not having anybody to care about you, it is not having anybody to worry about you if you don’t come home or miss you when you are no longer around.
A home is somewhere where you can be comfortable being you – the real you. Where you can surround yourself with your things and arrange the surroundings according to your taste. Home is where you hide when the world mistreats you, where you recuperate when you are sick, where you rest when you are tired. It’s a place to invite friends, to share meals.
Everybody ought to have a home but it is an ideal and in this broken world not everybody has what they need. Only, perhaps, in heaven, where all wrongs are righted and all tears are wiped away will we find our eternal home.