After long hard days, when I feel like I can't even drag my feet, my mind wanders and travels sometimes—often to places of comfort and peace … many times images of "home." These "mind-pictures," if you will, take many different forms, none of which I can really explain. There is that moving picture-show of my sneakered feet, shuffling and crunching through the crispy maple and oak leaves, orange, purple and crimson a few weeks ago, but now steadily browning. I'm walking home from school by the old Frog Pond—a favorite childhood play-spot—with no particular place to go. A massive statue of Washington looms just to my right, arms outstretched. The sky is bluer than blue; the October air is crisp and chilly. It's perfect.

Then I'm off to Plumb Island beach … another childhood favorite. It's July, hot, buggy (these awful, menacing "green-head" or sand flies are attacking). I'm surrounded by my parents, brothers and sister—we're all sitting in the sand eating ham sandwiches packed by Mom. The ham and bread is squishy and warm, almost melting. And I can taste sand in the sandwich. It's funny to be eating a crunchy ham sandwich. There's "Cool-aid" and laughing and fussing about this and that—and everything's wonderful.

Then it's off to the little downstairs apartment in the classic Boston "triple-decker," where Brandy and I lived while at seminary. It's December, freezing. I finally have listened to my smart young wife, and I've stopped shoveling the heavy, wet snow to build a snowman with two year-old Phoebe. There's not quite enough snow to make a snowman, and it's not the right kind, either (too slushy and heavy). But we build him anyway, and she thinks he's magnificent. Since we're short on snow, we make a scaled-down snowboy. His name is "Potato-nose" even though he has a celery-beak (who can argue with that logic?). Brandy's calling us in for hot-chocolate; Phoebe's asking me—brown eyes big, deep and urgent—if he'll live forever….

These things smack of home, of comfort. They're places of retreat and renewal … of recovery from today and fuel for the long, hard days to come. You have places like this as well—you travel there when you need to. These are your own private home-movies that you can play over and over again in your mind. They make you smile; they help you search out silver linings. They give you perspective and the sense that you can handle whatever it is you need to handle tomorrow.

In reality, I think the "place" aspect of the equation is the least important—what is home? Is it a geographic location, a locale, a house you once lived in? No, I think the comfort of this place in the heart comes from the people, the emotions that we experienced, the times in our lives these "mind pictures" represent. What's critical is not physically standing in the same place where x, y, and z event happened so long ago—leaning against the old porch door where your husband first stole a kiss! The inspiration lies in the profound reality of those relationships, the people—in their love for us, their efforts on our behalf, the enjoyment of those sweet and moving moments, the understanding of the power of shared lives, the memory of difficult times endured together, the comfort we can still take in knowing that we are loved, cared for, prayed for.

So where is home? Your home, my home, is a place in the heart: love. And this "place" is quite a nice destination. This summer, take a nice, long vacation there, and never leave. Make that long-put-off phone call to your uncle; take a trip to see that incredible godchild of yours, even if you really can't spare the time; tell your parents you love them and that they've given you sweet memories to feed off of for a life-time; tell your brother you're sorry, and that the last thing you ever wanted to do was hurt him; ask your grandfather if he remembers when; hold hands with your wife, and tell her there's no one like her in the entire world.

And don't forget who gave you that place in the heart to begin with—Christ. Wherever there is love, forgiveness, incredible memories, comfort, and warmth, He is there. Be there with Him, always, with those you love.