homesick.

  We are born homesick. Looking for a land we have never known. Sometimes we are given glimpses of the world we unknowingly ache to see. In the roar of thunder as lightening rends the sky and water baptizes the earth. Or in the wild roll of the ocean as it washes the land away. Or in the midnight burning of a hundred-million suns. We are struck, almost by a memory of something we once knew. There is a wonderful and terrible feeling of hollowness, a feeling that we are not yet home.

  It is true. As long as we wander the crust of this sun baked earth, we and trying to find our home. And home is not here. It is in a place we do not know. But before we go home, we must come to grips with the fact that this is a far country. We are homesick. We are not home.