My home.

This is my home:


But really, so is this:


This was my home:



And when I sold it to move to Nashville, I thought I had lost home. In some ways, I’ll confess, it still feels that way. Mainly because that beautiful couch is in storage and I miss the warmth of that sunshine coming in on the rocking chair.

I guess I gave up that home for this home:


And it was a trade I would make again. For sure.

But this home has been there a long time:


Even when this is my home:


So what is home? I thought it was that red couch living room in 2006. But I also thought it was my parents’ living room in 1986. I also think it is this living room I’m sitting in as I type.

Maybe it’s all three.

It’s my family. It’s my friends. Home is the friends that become like family.

Home is my kitchen table. Home is my guest bedroom.

Simply, maybe home is just where your…. oh no…. it can’t be true.


Home seems to be where my heart is.

[UGH. I hate that one billion times more than you do.]

Let me restate that- Home is where I’m good at being Annie.

Like here:


I think this move to Nashville has taught me something I’m not sure I would have learned anywhere else. The truth is that I have a lot of homes, a lot of beautiful places (and people), but in the end,

Jesus is my home. The one that will not change. The one that makes me the best Annie. The one that safely holds my heart.

Where is your home?


My friend Elizabeth asked a few of us to write about home, so head to her blog to see what some other folks are saying about home.

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