Home is..
Those words were printed on a doormat that greeted me every morning at my job with a national homebuilder—a somewhat painful reminder that I no longer had a home. Divorce had struck. The life I had painstakingly built over fifteen years had come crashing down.
It’s hard to describe the feeling, but it’s something like spending all day building a sandcastle only to watch the tide roll in and wash it away. The very wise Jimi Hendrix once wrote, “Castles made of sand wash into the sea, eventually.”
The thing is, this real-world castle I had built felt incredibly secure. We lived in a gated community with a country club membership. We had a golden retriever, a kid, and my ex-wife had a killer career. What could possibly go wrong?
Unfortunately, this castle wasn’t built on a firm foundation—God. It was built on sand: ambition, hustle, money, and a whole lot of pride. Despite all of this worldly success, something felt… off. My ex-wife and I, instead of enjoying life, seemed to be checking milestones off an endless to-do list that never seemed to end. Our reward for running the rat race? We had become loveless coworkers.
One particular morning, I arrived at work staring at that doormat for what felt like the hundredth time—but this time, a thought hit me: Home is… where the heart is. Duh.
I spent that morning setting up my desk. My favorite possession was a faded picture my son had made at school, framed with puzzle pieces glued all around it. In the photo, he was holding a sign that read, “I love you to pieces.”
The builder walked in for our morning meeting and paused.
“I love this picture,” he said. “Did you realize one of the puzzle pieces is missing?”
I looked at it and shook my head. I honestly had no idea.
He continued, “This reminds me a lot of my son. He has autism, and the symbol for autism is a missing puzzle piece.”
After the meeting ended, my first customer of the day arrived. My sales training immediately kicked in:
Name tag on? Check.
Open the door with a warm smile and an outstretched hand? Check.
Notice something about what they’re wearing to build an instant personal connection?
As she reached out to shake my hand, I noticed it—
a puzzle piece dangling from her wrist.
My eyes drifted upward and I saw a large tattoo of a heart centered on her chest.
I reached the last step of my mental checklist: maintain eye contact.
That’s when I froze.
The rest of the checklist evaporated as my mind reeled at the strange coincidence—the missing puzzle piece… and the heart.
I completely forgot to introduce myself.
Reading my name tag, she smiled and said,
“Hey Rob, I’m Joy.”
My mind circled the words: missing puzzle piece… heart… Joy... and finally I thought about my builder...
As AC/DC might say, I was completely thunderstruck.
