I have a new home now.
This is where I belong.
Look:
here is the cracked concrete,
the stuck windows
and crooked counters.
I know these things
need to be fixed
but they are only things.
They can wait.
Today, there will be people:
children, both quiet and impish—
the mourners and hopeful,
grieving the departed and
praying for adoption—
look, here is a woman snowblowing
and another preaching,
both strong, serving
and leading, creative
and hard-working.
Here, meet this wonderful couple:
grandparents, wise and ready to rest.
Who’s that?
She’s a seamstress and a hugger.
He serves the poor and is good with numbers.
Here’s a family learning to Sabbath
and another in Boy Scouts,
ready and prepared for adventures.
In my new home
there are people of many colors—
we like to bake and eat.
This family is sharp and stubborn,
soft and silent,
musical, dramatic and analytical.
Say what you want—they strive to love.
I will be travelling this week,
But my heart will be home.
Its (im)perfection warms my soul.
my new home
by Troy Cady
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