A prayer for those longing for home by Maggie Meadows Cooper, read by Leah Martin.

Those who live in the shelter of the most high will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty,

Psalm 91 1.

I was that kid, the one who called home at every spend the night party, somewhere around

10 p.m., asking my parents to come get me.

The one who got picked up from summer camp after two days, because I was homesick, the

summer before sixth grade.

And the one who cried my eyes out many times during my college internship in a new city,

because I just missed home.

When I was little, I missed laying on my daddy's arm before bed, and my mom saying prayers

with me.

I missed my room and stuffed animals, I even missed my annoying little brother and sister.

As I got older, I realized it was silly to be homesick and tried so hard not to be.

But most of the times I spent the night away, there was something off that I just couldn't

put my finger on.

And as soon as I walked through that back door at home, I was right again with the world.

What I couldn't put into words then that I know now is that I missed the comfort, the

familiarity, the known.

Home can be defined as the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member

of a family, or as the abiding place of the affections.

Home has been called the place where your heart is, and I believe that's true.

It's not necessarily a building, but a gathering place, a location that may not have a street

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