God is at home, it's we who have gone out for a walk.

“God is at home, it’s we who have gone out for a walk.” Thus spoke Meister Eckhart, the mystic of the 13th century, whose words still echo across the corridors of time like the toll of a bell in a silent monastery. In this saying, the great teacher reminds us that the Divine has never departed from us—that the eternal presence of God resides always within the heart of creation, within the stillness of our own souls. Yet it is we, restless wanderers, who have strayed into the world’s distractions, chasing fleeting shadows while forgetting the eternal light that burns quietly at home.

In the days of old, sages spoke of the inner temple, the secret chamber of the heart where one may commune with the Infinite. Eckhart’s words awaken this ancient wisdom: that God is not far off, not hidden in the clouds, nor locked behind the gates of heaven. He is home. He is the peace behind our thoughts, the silence beneath our striving, the calm in the center of the storm. But we—children of dust and wonder—have gone walking into the fields of illusion, drawn by the glitter of the transient, and have lost the way back to the sacred hearth.

Once there was a monk who left his monastery to seek enlightenment. He traveled through mountains, through deserts, through cities crowded with merchants and beggars. He fasted and prayed, studied the scriptures, spoke with wise men, and endured loneliness. Years passed. One morning, weary and broken, he returned to the monastery and entered the small chapel where he had first prayed as a boy. There, in the quiet, he heard the same silence that had once surrounded him long ago. Tears filled his eyes. He understood at last: the Presence he had sought in distant lands had never left this humble place—or his own heart. He had gone walking, but God had remained home, waiting in stillness.

This story, though simple, holds the heart of Eckhart’s teaching. Our wanderings are not condemned, for to walk is to learn, to suffer, to grow. Yet every journey is a circle that leads us back to the beginning—to the home within, where truth and peace abide. The danger lies not in walking, but in forgetting to return. We must walk through the world, yes, but with remembrance. To work, to love, to serve, to suffer—all these are sacred acts when done with awareness of the divine dwelling within us.

Eckhart’s wisdom calls us to return home, not by withdrawing from life, but by awakening in it. When we wash our hands, when we speak to a friend, when we breathe in the morning air—God is there, quietly at home in the moment. To remember this is to end exile. To live without remembrance is to be forever wandering, no matter how far our feet may roam.

Consider also the life of Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha. He, too, left home seeking truth, seeking freedom from suffering. He sat beneath the Bodhi tree and discovered that the peace he sought was not found through escape, but through awakening to what had always been. He, too, returned “home,” though not to a house of wood and stone, but to the house of awareness, the dwelling of the eternal. In every age, the awakened ones speak the same truth: the kingdom of heaven is within you, yet the human heart loves to wander.

The lesson is simple yet profound: do not seek God in faraway places. Seek Him where He has always been—within you, within the world that surrounds you at this very breath. When you pray, when you work, when you love, return to that awareness. Let your mind rest in stillness from time to time, and you will feel the warmth of home again. The road of life is long, but the door to the Divine stands open within your own heart.

So, dear listener, as the ancients would say—return home. Do not abandon your walk, but walk with remembrance. Let every step be a prayer, every word a candle in the house of God. For God is at home, and though we may wander far and wide, the path of peace begins not in the world, but in the quiet chambers of the soul.