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Oh my home built on high, up above the hills. A home of peace, full of treasure, comfort and love. Abode of the saints, a reward for the upright, the inheritance of the faithful.

My home is somewhere above the hills up in the cloud. I am not of this world, I am just a passer by , a pilgrim on a mission in a strange land that is who I am

Despite life detour, the struggle and depression, hatred and rejection I get as a sojourner in a midst multitude; people of manifold languages, tribes and culture,religion and believe color and faith, I will always remember my home.

The journey may be far, the rout may be narrow, I may get tired, but will not relent. Though I go through the fire, I will not be consume, though I go through rivers of water I will not be drawn by it, though I walk through the valley and up the mountains I will not be afraid. For I reckon, that the present suffering of this world cannot be compared to the pleasures in my home

Not the riches, not the pleasures, nor the treasure, not the mansions can decide my fate. Silver is good, gold is good, but they are not as good compared to joy I will get when I get to my home up the hill.

Oh my home what can be compare unto thee, a place of perfect rest, endless existence, continuous joy, and everlasting peace.

My home

Published by Etoh Christopher

A writer and a poet, above all nature lover.

4 thoughts on “My HOME

  1. “‘I’m but a stranger here,
    Heaven is my home.
    Earth is a desert drear,
    Heaven is my home.
    Danger and sorrow stand
    Round me on every hand;
    Heaven is my Fatherland,
    Heaven is my home.”
    Very well pictured! 💞💞💞

    Liked by 1 person

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