As the rain tapped against the windows, I found myself craving the comfort of Grandma’s kitchen: green beans simmering with potatoes and ham, the aroma of home filling every room. There really should be a candle that captures that smell – “Simmering Green Beans and Ham.” I’d buy it!
Since losing Mom and Dad, the meaning of “home” has shifted in my heart. On days like this, when the rain makes everything feel cozy and quiet, I miss them most. I catch myself reaching for the phone, wanting to hear their voices, to share moments, to feel their prayers wrapping around my day. It’s funny how certain weather and even smells can stir up such powerful memories – the kind that leave you grateful but achingly homesick at the same time.
Instead, I put on a pot of green beans, just like Grandma’s. As the familiar scent filled my kitchen, the Lord whispered to my heart: He is my true home. Not in the memories, not even in the comfort food, but in His constant presence. His arms carry me through 
uncertain days, bringing me to that safe place again and again.
Though family was the vessel God chose to bring Jesus into our world, and He’s preparing our forever home in heaven, His Spirit dwells within us right here, right now. Through every storm—whether personal tragedy or global turmoil—His presence remains our anchor.
As Psalm 84 reminds us, our souls yearn for God’s dwelling place. The beautiful truth is: we’re already there. He walks beside us, lives within us, making any place we are feel like home. And that’s sweeter than even the best pot of green beans.