...You can always come home.

Last night Zion had a sleep-over at a friend's house.

10:37pm, the phone rings.

That first thought of a late night phone call is never good.

I muster up my most cheerful, "hello?"

"Hi Melda, it's Felicia"

"Is everything okay?"

"Zion misses his mommy and wants to come home"

"That's fine. I'll come get him"

"NO NO, I'll bring him home, we will be there in 10 minutes"

The 10 minutes seemed like 10 hours. Zion is my 'baby', but he usually goes places without a thought. Even as a toddler, he never was the kid screaming at the nursery door at church.

I meet them at the car, barefoot and in my jammies. Zion jumps out of the car, runs to me and throws his arms around me. I almost lost it there. I thank them for bringing him home and apologize for the late night. As I pick Zion up, he wraps his arms, (and legs) around me tight.

As we come in the house, he hops down from my arms and heads up to his room. I follow him up and help him get ready for bed. I didn't ask any questions, I just waited.

As I snuggle him in and kneel beside his bed for prayers, the pout forms and the tears start.

"Zion, did something bad happen at their house?"

a teary 'yes' was his reply.

Again, I wait.

"They have a TV in their room and they were watching a scary show.........

.....I wish I could just sleep in YOUR bed tonight."

So back down the stairs we went.

As we come into the bedroom, Mike gives me that half smile. He knew that was coming.
Zion climbs us in the middle of our bed, snuggles in and closes his eyes. He is home. He feels safe.

I said, "Zy, no matter where you are, you can always come home"

And in that moment, I felt the love of my heavenly Father.......Abba, Daddy......
No matter where we are, what we have done........we can always come home.