Home Isn't Just a House

Home isn’t the bricks or the beams or the stone. It’s the warmth in a hug when you’re feeling alone. It’s the quiet moments, the knowing glance, the way you feel safe, like you're given a chance. Home isn’t the roof, or the doors painted bright. It’s the way your heart feels when you’re wrapped up at night. It’s the sound of soft laughter, the comfort of tears. The way love surrounds you and quiets your fears. Home isn't a place, it's a state of being, a feeling you carry, not just what you're seeing. It's the arms that hold you when days are long, the voices that join in a favorite song. Home isn’t a place, it’s the way you belong, the way hearts beat together, steady and strong. It’s the gentle whispers when the world is too loud, the softest of comforts, a love unbowed. Home is the light in someone’s eyes when you walk through the door. It’s the way you are loved, and loved even more. It’s the comfort of knowing, you’re held through it all, in a place where you’re cherished, where you’re always called. Home isn’t the stone or the wood or the frame. It’s the love that surrounds you, that feels so great. Home is where you’re loved, where you’re seen for who you are, a place you can always return to, no matter how far. That's why home isn’t the bricks or the beams, or the stone. It’s the warmth in a hug when you’re feeling alone. It’s the quiet moments, the knowing glance, the way you feel safe, like you're given a chance.